Moonrise
by Spencebox
Summary: This was Eliza's final year at Hogwarts; already a 7th year and all she had to show for it was a former Defense Against the Dark Arts Professor who held her heart in his clawed hands, a strange friendship with Cedric Diggory that she never really even asked for, and the new DADA Professor who stares at her like he knows who she is and is all he's ever wanted. (PoA 1-11, GoF 12-?)
1. Hello, Goodbye

_Edited as of 4/8/20_

* * *

 _September 1, 1993_

It was the last article of clothing to pack—at least she thought it was, though there was much doubt to when it would actually be worn. It was a Christmas sweater that Aunt Mara had knitted years ago and while it was comfy and quite colorful, she was unsure if Hogwarts was ready for the likes of her Aunt's sweaters. The regular students wardrobe color varied from black to brown, perhaps a speck of white from an unhidden button down.

The suitcase shut with a click and she triumphantly placed her hands on her hips, hoping there was nothing missing or forgotten. The clock to her right read 10:20; she wasn't running too late. A childish giggle made her movement still, looking to the burgundy nightstand sitting to the right of the bed.

It was a photograph—one of the only ones in the house that held a smidgeon of magic, allowing the figures to move as if a movie was held in her hands. She held it close to her heart, looking at the smiling faces of her parents.

Her mother, the woman who people still claimed her daughter was a duplicate of, had a scrunched up nose and a mischievous smile, green eyes aflutter with joy. Her father was doing his best to emit a laugh from the toddler, various laughable faces causing the toddler and wife to emit a laughter that rung through Eliza's ears.

She placed the photo back in its original place, mentally pushing away old memories that best remained unseen. There was no time to dilly dally on photos anyway, the urgency of the time at hand prompting her legs to get a move on and transport the suitcase to the front door.

It seemed Aunt Mara hadn't gotten the notice of urgency.

"We gotta go Mara! We can't be late!" A rumble of footsteps from the kitchen followed shortly after her yell and Mara appeared with a tired smile on her face and a biscuit in her hand.

"I was waiting for you, you lazy bum. Let's go! You miss that train and you'll find yourself helping me at work for the year and –- _ah_ out the door she goes." Mara smiled to herself and shut the door, locking it with a twist and sitting next to her niece in the car.

"You know, one of these days I'll ask that Dumbledore fellow-"

"He's the Headmaster!"

Mara was a Muggle, so she'd never have the chance to see Hogwarts.

"Okay, _Headmaster_ , to give me a tour of your school. I don't ever truly know where I'm sending you off once you run through that bloody platform and frankly you could be running off to hell knows where and I'm none the wiser." Mara gave her niece a pointed look as they drove down the street

Eliza gave her a shrug, "Oh yes Mara, I'm actually going to a back alley drug ring everyday and drinking whisky till sunrise."

Mara ignored her, "But since I can't do that I'm relying on you to send me an owl at least every two weeks, just so I know your okay." Mara gave her a smirk, "Or if there's anyone giving you trouble I need to wrangle."

Eliza gave her Aunt a look that read 'you can't do that Auntie but you never listen so who cares'. It was quiet for a few more minutes and then Mara decided she might as well ask some questions to pass the time. "So, are you taking anything interesting this year?"

Eliza thought about it for a moment.

"Well after Lockhart's extreme failure as the Defense Against the Dark Arts teacher last year, I assume we'll be getting a replacement that will hopefully teach us something more than how to sign autographs."

Mara snorted something that suspiciously sounded like a word that would get her a slap on the wrist. "And luckily there was a new class in Care of Magical Creatures, and Potions as always." And of course, Mara asked "And is Potions still taught by uhm, what's his name—Snoop?"

Eliza let out a wild laugh, "You damn well know its Snape. And he's…"

She paused for a moment to think of the right word to say. Was he mean? Not really, well at least to her. He wasn't cruel as most people liked to say, but he sure as hell wasn't kind.

He had a permanent look of disdain of his face that she was sure had been on his face since birth. But then again, he wasn't ever particularly harsh or unfair to her, nor her friends, and she truly had no reason to hate him as much as the rest of the school did. There were always rumors about his past, whispers accusing him of conspiring with Lord Voldemort and having been on the way to Azkaban, only being denied such a fate at Dumbledore's request. She tried not to listen to them, really.

"He's just Snape. Still teaching Potions in the Dungeons and still his angry old self." Eliza sighed.

She stepped out of the car and walked to the trunk, popping it open and grabbing her things.

Mara was behind her with a sorrowful smile—it was like this every time she left for the school year. It never got any easier to take herself away from Muggle London in her Aunt's flat and go back to the magic of Diagon Alley and Hogwarts—but she'd be a red-faced liar if she said she didn't miss it once in a while. And besides, having to do ones own laundry was a drag.

"You have everything? Not missing your wand or anything else you wizards use?" Mara stuffed her hands in her jumper and rolled on the balls of her feet.

"Yep. And I'll owl you if there's anything important or I've lost something or if I just miss home. C'mon, gimme a hug." The two women hugged at Platform 9, just halfway to Platform 10. It was sweet embrace that grew tighter just before they pulled away.

"Goodbye love, have fun!" Mara waved at Eliza and watched as he niece ran into a pillar wall, disappearing from sight.

Eliza came through to Platform 9 ¾, where it was bustling with students and parents alike who were all rushing to get themselves on the train. She apologized to more than a handful of people when they bumped into her and scowled at one particularly rude platinum haired woman who seemed to widen her eyes at her mere presence, though quickly scurried away into the crowd and away from Eliza's gaze.

A gaggle of red hair caught her attention and the familiar height of two red haired twins brought a smile to her face. Her steps raced forward and beamed when she caught Mr. Weasley's eyes, and he returned the smile.

"Elizabeth Jones! It's been ages dear, how have you been? Are the Muggles treating you right? Tell me, how was it been without the use of magic all summer?" Arthur turned to call his wife, "Molly! It's Elizabeth, come say hello."

Molly Weasley was one of the kindest woman know to the Wizarding World and treated her like she was one of her own, as if Eliza was a Weasley without the red hair. She had even offered Eliza a room in the Burrow if she truly ever needed it, which she never took but thanked her for the offer every time.

"Ah! Elizabeth!" Molly gave her a massive death like grip of a hug, "I feel like I haven't seen you in ages you look so much older and yet still so lovely. How have you been?"

A reply was on the tip of her tongue but the train let out a deafening blare that alerted the students that they needed to get in their seats. Moly laughed it off and spoke about next visits and wishing her a swell school year before ushering her off.

Getting onto the train was the easy part, but finding a seat amongst the endless rows of already taken compartments was quiet a difficult. It seemed that every goddam seat was full, or the mostly full ones were first years waiting for their second year friends and sneering with their eyes that the empty seat next to them was taken.

The back of the train was typically Slytherins and she just didn't feel like dealing with their overzealous attitude today. It was becoming clear the farther she went down that there was no hope for a free seat.

And then she saw it—well; it was close enough to exactly what she wanted. It must have been the last empty compartment, though it wasn't empty for there was a man—he was much to tall to be a student, and he seemed to be wearing some sort of suit that not even a Slytherin would dare wear.

He was sitting up and reading a book, nose so close to the page they were nearly touching. She tapped her finger on the glass and was taken aback when he promptly looked at her square in the face with his eyebrows raised in curiosity at the noise that had interrupted his reading.

He nodded and she beamed, sliding open the door and trying, but failing, to bring in her case and place it in the overhead compartment. She'd nearly given up when the man stood from his seat, a height much taller than her own, and effortlessly lifted her luggage overhead, securing it and sitting once more.

She sat as well, taking a good look at the man who had put away her heavy luggage. He was a striking man, with eyes that seemed to leave her frozen in place and a mouth that would do much better committing various sins on her person. Few scares littered his face, and she longed to kiss them away.

That thought jolted her rational brain, not understanding exactly why she'd want to _kiss_ this stranger.

His clothes were rumpled and looked as if thrown on haphazardly, no sign of neatness on him for her to bear witness to. Her fingertips twitched with longing, wanting to fix his tie and comb through his dark crimson hair, wondering if it was smooth or rough like his scar ridden flesh. She'd only noticed now that his own eyes had been roaming her figure, a rosy blush covering her cheeks.

Luckily, he cleared his throat and uttered the first words of their meeting. "Hello there, a pleasure to meet your acquaintance, Miss...?"

"Jones." She blurted her last name like it was a sin. "Elizabeth Jones, at your service, though my friends call me Lizzie." Her tongue peeked out to wet her dry lips. "And you are, Sir...?"

Shaking his head with a smile, "Just Remus will do, darling. And if you don't mind, I think I'll stick with Elizabeth. Is that alright?"

Eliza nodded with a small smile, liking the way he called her _Elizabeth,_ as if purring her name, "Alright, Remus. Can I ask what you're doing on the train to Hogwarts? I don't believe your going as a student."

Remus leaned in and play whispered, "If I tell you, you must keep quiet as to not blow my cover. Can you do that Elizabeth?"

She eagerly nodded and tried not to squeeze her thighs together at the purr of her name, listening eagerly. "I was sent by personal request of Dumbledore, under his strict instructions to not speak a word of my mission to a single soul."

She watched his face, seeing the troubled look on his face, "Is something happening at Hogwarts?" A bubble of anxiety was trying to form in the pit of her stomach, rising up to her chest.

He shook his head, pieces of hair falling into his eyes, "Do not worry yourself Elizabeth, Hogwarts is safe and nothing will harm you or any other student while Dumbledore is in charge."

"I'm assuming you haven't heard about Hogwarts unfortunate findings in the girls lavatory last year?" Everyone knew about the Chamber of Secrets at this point.

A laugh erupted from his covered chest, "Oh yes, I've heard various tales of Gilderoy Lockhart and his unfortunate run in with a memory wiping charm." They both laughed and let their boisterous chuckles echo through the air.

Remus sobered up first, a look she couldn't discern crossing his face, "Are you quiet certain we have not crossed paths before? Your face is one I feel as though I've seen before."

She shook her head, "People tend to say I look just like my mother, perhaps you knew her. She might have gone to Hogwarts the same year as you did. Did you know Ismelda Jones?"

A bright look shown brightly through Remus's eyes, as if the missing puzzle piece had been found. "Right you are Elizabeth, you are mirror image of dear Ismelda." A finger tapped as Remus thought back to his younger days.

"Now, if I remember correctly, Ismelda was with Eton all through their schooling and went on to have you shortly after I became an Auror with James Potter and Eton. How long ago that was."

A melancholy look crossed his face, as if thinking of old memories was a task better left undone. Pleasantness had formed in the corner of her heart, wanting to hear more stories of Remus's life, yearned to lean over and have his whispers wash over her, learning secrets and stories of a life long past lived. But she knew when to give up and let the past die.

Remus cleared his throat, adjusting the coat on his shoulders, "Well my dear, I do believe it would be a wise time for myself to partake in a short rest. If anything comes up, just give me a shake."

She nodded and gave him a larger smile, watching him cover his form with the green cloak and give into sleep, leaving Eliza to the quiet loneliness of their train compartment. It gave her time to think about what the new year would hold, what she'd say when she saw her friends, and tried to not picture Remus's hands on her body.

The train was moving at full speed, the scenery changing from a vast array of grasslands and lush trees to open waters and misty skies.

Eliza was brought from her internal thoughts by the sound of the door sliding open; turning to greet whomever was joining halfway to Hogwarts. It was shock to see the three students who got in the most trouble; Hermione Granger, Ron Weasley and Harry Potter.

Hermione Granger was known as the know-it-all, and Eliza had heard stories of the girls' antics in seemingly always knowing more than every Professor in the Hogwarts vicinity. Ronald Weasley was the youngest Weasley, but not the most up to no good Weasley, and was always seen with Harry Potter.

And well, Harry Potter was the Boy-Who-Lived; the student who'd spoke to snakes last year and had seemingly cheated death more than once. He was a slip of a boy with the lightening bolt on his forehead. Eliza tended to stay away from the younger years, but they clearly weren't _asking_ to share with her and Remus.

Harry and Ron sat next to her, and Hermione next to Remus. The red haired third year turned to Eliza, "Haven't I seen you with my Mum?"

Eliza turned to him and nodded, "Yes Ron, I'm very well acquainted with your Mother. Is that a problem?"

Ron makes an odd disgruntled face before facing forward once more, whispering something unintelligible to Harry. This time it was Hermione who addressed Eliza, pointing to Remus but not touching him, "Who is this? He can't be a student."

"He's not and he's asleep, so if you would all please be quiet."

That effectively shut up the three 3rd years and allowed silence to overtake the small compartment, Eliza going back to watching the outdoor waters ripple with the train. Her curiosity was peaked when black streaks, much to fast for her eyes to see, seemed to tussle up in the sky, eventually moving overhead and out of her line of sight.

The train started to shake and she tried hard to think _everything is fine its just water_ but the overhead lights flickering was enough to have her heart in her throat. She jumped back as a black streak shot by the window, the glass starting to freeze in its corners. An urge to lean over and shake Remus awake overcame every thought, wanting to hear him purr her name and chase away whatever was happening on the train.

Ron was the first one to start the hysterics, "Did you see that? Something's out there!"

Eliza tried not to agree, "Ron, please, let the conductor handle it and stay calm." He seemed to barely hear her, turning to Harry and mumbling more fears.

She happened to hear his next complaint, "What if it's Sirius Black? What if he's come to kill us?" and her brow furrowed at such a fear. What reason did Ron have to fear an Azkaban escapee?

Harry tried to shush his friend, to maybe stop him from having a panic attack, but the train lurching to a heart stopping _halt_ had her scared.

 _Nothing_ could stop the Hogwarts Express. Now seemed like a time to wake Remus but her limbs felt as cold as ice, stuck in place and refusing to move, no matter how hard she tried. The overheard lights shut off, leaving the room is a darkness that frightened the four students, each not knowing what to do.

It was Ron's voice whispering, "Harry?" that gave Eliza the push to reach forward and tug on Remus's cloak, trying to get him to see what was happening, to help her. But he remained asleep, and her breath seemed stuck in her throat as a creature stood in the doorway to their compartment.

She'd be a fool to not know what had boarded the train—a Dementor, the protectors of Azkaban. It was said that those worthy of death in Azkaban received the Dementor's Kiss, meaning your soul was sucked out of your living body in a way that was almost unimaginable.

The sight of the Dementor was enough to freeze her bones, the boned hand reaching in from the obsidian cape to unlatch the door and step into the empty space. The room grew colder than a frozen sea and the wetness sitting on her lids turned to ice.

Hermione refused to even look at it, and Ron just blubbered next to her.

She'd expected the Dementor to move on, to see that none of them were threats to Hogwarts, to let them live, but only the lucky would seem to have such a fate.

Her eyes watch the face of the Dementor—though the face was just a gaping horrific hole that brought death and pain, and she'd defenseless when the pain starts.

It feels as though her entire being is in front of a vacuum cleaner, trying its best to suck out her insides, her very being, her _soul._ The pain was gradual and grew into a weight that was too much to carry, feeling any resistance die as her body lifted on its own, head falling back as consciousness faded in and out.

The picture on her bedside table played behind her eyelids, her parents smiling and laughing and her toddler self without a care in the world. It seemed easier to just watch the happy memory until it stopped.

A pair of arms wound around her midsection, pulling her back against a firm chest and the fragrance of dewy grass and a faint aroma she couldn't quiet place lulling her into a dreamless sleep.

* * *

It was Dumbledore's face that greeted her open eyes, his worn and wrinkled smile giving her the strength to sit up. The material under her hands was that of scratchy sheets, ones only used in the Hospital Wing and the odor of antiseptic rubs.

Madame Pomfrey flitted over to her side, "Dear girl, you shouldn't be awake, after all you've been through…"

Dumbledore nodded as well, "Elizabeth, it is with the utmost grief that I apologize for your encounter with that Dementor."

She tried to find her voice, "What was it doing on the train?"

"It was searching for Sirius Black." But that still left the question, "Then why did it attack me?"

He sighed and patted her shoulder, "Even creatures as intelligent as a Dementor make mistakes. Now please, do rest. Your friends are looking forward to seeing you."

She watched him exit the Hospital Wing and begrudgingly took the pain reliever from Madame Pomfrey, "I'll be back in the morning. Have a good rest, Jones."

And now she was alone, slumped against a white pillow and still in her day clothes from the train ride. The dark sky was visible through the long windows and she wondered how long she'd been out. She felt exhausted and hungry, but decided that staying in bed was her best option.

A pop of color caught her eye and she turned to see a piece of Zonko's butterscotch taffy sitting at her bedside, resting innocently in the moonlight. It brought a smile to her face; they were her favorite.

She chewed the sugary confection with a smile, watching the half moon from her bed.


	2. A Sausage Roll Would Be Nice

Edited as of 4/20

* * *

The Hufflepuff Dormitory was a second home to Eliza; the place she lived in for the other half of the year and the one place she always felt safe. Her bed was placed right next to Jeanine, her best friend of many years and an absolute loudmouth most of the time. But Jeanine and Eliza were two peas in a pod, and Eliza allowed herself to collapse into the sweet smelling comforter. The fabric was like puddy in her hands, and she could've fallen asleep a second time—if not for the body that slammed onto the small of her back, breath exiting her lung in haste.

Jeanine's long curls hung in a curtain that shadowed the two girls, "You better have a bloody good reason for not answering a single one of my owls."

Eliza turned and stared into her lovely friends hard eyes, "Would you believe me if I said I forgot?"

The two erupted into a tickle fight of sorts, hands scrambling to attack every open square of flesh that was ripe for a squeeze. Jeanine gave up first, relenting her own attack and rolling to flop on her back, turning her head and staring at Eliza with wide eyes full of mirth.

"Gods, I missed you Lizzie. You have no idea how borin' it was back at home." Jeanine rolled her eyes and scrunched her nose, "I tried mailin' Desmond but he was off at some other school, and Daisy was with her Mum."

Eliza turned and smiled at her friend, "It wasn't like I was having much fun either. I washed clothes and played shuffle, so really, I think you had it better than me."

Jeanine blew a raspberry before standing up, hands planted on her wide hips," While that may be fair, I did do _some_ stuff."

Eliza eagerly listened as Jeanine recalled the tale of how her father had deliberately told her _not_ to stick her overly large nose into any dragon business, and how Jeanine had done exactly that. Her father, who worked for the Ministry of Magic, had caught note of her intention to _illegally_ purchase an _illegal_ dragon egg.

Jeanine's Father Richard specialized in creatures and illegal poaching, and seemingly took the case from his daughter, promising to protect and help any creatures that happened to be caught in an unfortunate situation.

But apparently, her father had gone mad at her intent to buy the dragon egg, even after telling her to contact Charlie Weasley for more information on becoming a dragon tamer. But seeing as the Weasley's had been in Egypt all summer, that hadn't really been an option.

"And now, my father practically _screams_ at me—"

Jeanine did her best impersonation of her father, _"Why did I get stuck with a daughter with a nose bigger than her brain? You know you'd get higher marks if you just stuck to your studies like a _good girl__ _."_

She stuck her tongue out and crossed her eyes, both girls erupting into laugher that eventually died down when Jeanine continued. "But really, he wants me to contact Charlie, see about going to work with him during my summers, really get up close with dragons."

Eliza lightly touched her friends arm, "And? Will you?"

It was sad to see the dejected look cross Jeanine's face. "Don't know…Mum says it's stupid. That I'd do better following after Dad and joining the Ministry. Says I'd be a great receptionist." This time, her eyes found Eliza. "She thinks your corrupting me, says you're the reason I rebel against her. But I think she's full of shit."

Eliza could see the way that Jeanine was tearing up inside, wanting to follow her heart but being held back by her mother's disappointment was more than one 6th year should have to deal with. This wasn't the first time that Jeanine's Mum had told her daughter to stay away from her, lies about becoming a Dark With enough to have Eliza hating the older woman.

Eliza needed to bring the mood up again, surging off the bed and tugging her friend to the main door, "C'mon, enough with this sad talk. Let's see if the twins left us anything to eat."

They left the Dormitory and strolled down the cemented hallway, waving at the paintings and trying not to bump into any lost first years, all wide eyed and misty. Their shoes clicked with every step on the stone ground, Jeanine's hands intertwining with her friends as they made it to the Great Hall.

It was easy to spot the twins; they were at their usual spot at the Hufflepuff table, though it was shocking that they'd saved two seats, seeing as most of Hogwarts had already made their way into the Great Hall.

The Gryffindor Table was a flutter with activity; the Quidditch students all-whispering about new games and new titles, the fashionable students gawking at all the badly dressed first years, and the trio of Harry and his friends.

The other tables were much more quiet, aside from the Slytherin Table and the ever annoying Draco Malfoy, as well as his goons Crabbe and Goyle. The platinum blonde haired 3rd year sneered from his seat at all of the Slytherin First years, glaring as if they'd go away with simply a look.

The Hufflepuff table was the least adventurous, with most of the students reading a book or talking quietly between friends. Daisy and Desmond sat side-by-side, Desmond softly biting into a warm spring roll while Daisy picked at her green beans. They were true twins, having the same nose and facial structure but different style of hair, Daisy preferring to wear hers up, while Desmond kept his trimmed to the skull.

Jeanine plopped down across from Daisy and tugged Eliza next to her, already reaching forward to snag the last sausage roll, as well as a spoonful of sweetened carrots. Eliza's appetite had dwindled, her eagerness to see her friends having squashed any hunger, though she did pick up a sweetened roll and take a bit.

Daisy was the first to pipe up. "Well, hello to you two. It's been awhile, hasn't it?" Eliza nodded as Desmond piped up, "You two won't believe where I was this summer. I—"

Daisy cut him off with a grunt, "No one wants to hear you talk about your trip for the thousandth time." Daisy addressed Eliza with a warm smile, "What'd you do Lizzie How'd the Muggle life treat you?"

Desmond rolled his eyes, "Oh, like that's more interesting…"

Eliza ignored him with a pleasant smile, "Same as every year. We mostly played shuffleboard indoors, it rained quiet a lot so that put a damper on some plans, but it was nice. My Aunt has a flower shop and I raised some purple tulips."

Eliza had enjoyed her quiet summer, watching the flowers grow and smelling the rain filled air. It's something she could get used to doing everyday.

Daisy further inquired, chewing on a pastry that had seemingly appeared out of thin air, "Shuffleboard and flowers sound like a regular Lizzie afternoon." A devious look crossed her face, "I'm assuming no _boys_ came to visit this flower shop, eh?"

They all snickered as dark redness spread across Eliza's tanned cheeks, eyes look anywhere but her friends. No boys in London ever showed an interest in Eliza, always strolling past her with a girl much prettier, paler, blonder than herself. It was that she didn't think herself pretty or capable of love, Eliza just didn't see herself as _desirable_.

And as if Daisy could hear her thoughts, she nudged her under the table, "Any man would be lucky to have you Lizzie, I know I would."

The two girls smiled at each other, a saccharine sweet moment ruined by the presence that now loomed over Eliza's shoulder, and by the look on Daisy's once smiling now malevolent face, it was Silas Graves.

Silas Graves, one of the descendants of Percival Graves—a wizard who quiet famously had been bested and polyjuiced into Gellert Grindelwald, the real Percival nearly dying after being trapped in a cigarette tin for two months. Silas prided herself on being related to him, claiming she would see to becoming a great a wizard as him, but twice as smart, of course.

Eliza and Silas never saw eye to eye, they were the 6th year Harry and Draco, just a lot less violent. They never sought to harm each other—at least Eliza didn't—merely to best each other in classes, duels, even Quidditch.

And Eliza could smell Eliza's ghastly perfume that she never seemed to put less of on. A hand with black painted nails rested on her shoulder, "Now, if it isn't my favorite Hufflepuff."

Eliza sighed and gracefully turned in her seat, gazing up at the grinning pale face of Silas, slightly pointed incisors on display, "And you, my favorite Slytherin."

The three other Hufflepuffs sneered at the Slytherin, cringing at her sinister tone, "How did your summer treat you, Elizabeth? Off gallivanting with the Muggles like always?"

"You know me so well, Silas." Eliza never did take the bait. "And how was your summer? I'll assume it treated you well?"

Silas had the decency to give a non-vicious smile, "Why yes, in fact, I spent the past few months in Spain, trading spells for dances in the moonlight. If only you'd been there, they couldn't get enough of me."

Desmond snorted into his glass of pumpkin juice, "We've had more than enough of you." To which Silas snarled like a ferocious feline, teeth bared at the male twin with one hand clenched into an unforgiving fist.

"Say it again, you filthy half-blood—"

Eliza stood at the spew of vengeful insults, staring hard into her rival's eyes. "I think it's best you go." Silas held her ground. "Now."

Silas sneered once more over Eliza's shoulder before meeting the Hufflepuffs eyes once more, "I'll see you in potions, Elizabeth."

The four watched the Slytherin march off to her respective table, the eyes of Draco Malfoy lingering on Eliza for much to long to be comfortable. The met eyes for a moment too long, breaking when Jeanine tugged her back down, patting her on the back.

"Don't mind her Lizzie, she just takes pride in rillin' people up." Desmond nodded and took another hefty sip of pumpkin juice, coughing when Daisy nudged him in the side. More students fluttered into, others deciding to take their leave and accustom themselves to the Castle.

The foursome munched and chatted, retelling small stories of their time away. Eliza picked at a colorful fruit tart, knowing some elf in the kitchen put copious amounts of time into perfection the coloring of the fruits, eventually consuming it in one between, moaning at the sweet taste.

Jeanine was the first to finish, stretching her arms high above her head, "Well, I think I'm finished. Anybody up for a stroll? Maybe a lap around the Whomping Willow will do us some good?"

Daisy wiped her lips clean, "I'll pass, I haven't unpacked any of my things and want to get a letter out to my Mum."

Desmond took the last sip of pumpkin juice, standing tall and patting his full belly, "I think I'll join you. You in, Lizzie?"

Eliza thought about it for a moment, eyes raking over the emptying Hall and raking over the mostly empty Professor's table. She'd been hoping to catch a sight of Professor Snape, but his regular chair was empty. So she shrugged, "Yeah, I guess I will."

She was standing and in the midst of sending Daisy her farewells when a very familiar owl flew in, a letter clutched in it's hind legs dropping on her empty plate, the Owl swopping once more out the open window. Her three friends all raised their brows in her direction, to which she shyly shrugged, hand reaching down to gingerly gaze at the letter.

Her name was written in a scrawl she'd ever seen, the curvature of the capital E causing an unknown fluttering in her stomach. It clearly wasn't Mara, she knew her Aunt's handwriting, "Well, what's it say?"

Her eyes turned up to Daisy's smiling face, finger tearing open the closed seam of the envelope, grasping the piece of parchment that rested inside. It was plain, as if torn from a notebook and only a small paragraph resided on the page.

 _Elizabeth,_

 _Seeing as our last meeting on the Hogwarts Express was cut short, I would greatly appreciate a moment of your time. If you would join me in my new classroom a quarter past 3, I shall be eagerly awaiting your arrival._

 _Remus_

A radiant smile covered her face, eyes re-reading the words that seemed to make her heart burst with joy. A fluttering of butterfly wings tickled the sides of her stomach, a saccharine sweet feeling lodged in her throat. It was the words he'd written on the page that had her stepping out from the table, eagerly biting her lip.

"Well, who is it?" Daisy had a crick in her brow, but overall looked curious. Eliza wanted to tell them herself—well, not really, knowing they'd judge her for allowing a man much older than herself to make her heart go aflutter. But this want was dashed away as Jeanine's sneaky hands ripped the letter from her fist, rapid eyes scanning every word.

"Oooooh, who's this Remus fellow?"

Daisy looked curious, head turning side to side like a confused dog, and Desmond look devious. "A here she said she wasn't seeing anyone. A liar, this one. Let me see—"

Eliza snatched it away from Jeanine as two 4th year Hufflepuffs scooted down the wooden table, a brother and sister Jae and Luma, eyes hungry for gossip.

"Isn't that the name of the new DADA Professor? I've heard he's real pretty, tall too. Have you seen him?" Jae nodded at his sister, "I saw him earlier talking with Snape, he's got than rugged look, real nice and handsome, if I say so."

A puddle of jealousy formed in Eliza and she couldn't hold back her snarl at their words, "Stop it you two, he wouldn't want you children anyhow."

Jae snorted to his sister, "Like he'd want her, not a looker in the bunch." The two snorted back and forth, eventually moving back to their original spots a few feet away. Eliza stuck a tongue out at them; a nasty spell headed their way if they came back any more _compliments_ for Remus.

Oh god, she needed to stop with this possessiveness over a man she barely knew. Those two have every right to lust after him, just like she did.

Daisy cleared her throat, alerting Eliza, "Now that they're gone, will you tell us what is says?"

Truly, she didn't want to, as his words were only meant for her ears, but to deny her friends would be uncouth of her. "He wants to see me in his classroom at 3, nothing more."

"Hmm, and I wonder what our Professor Lupin has in store?" Desmond snickered like a naughty fairy. "Perhaps something involving his personal broomstick…?"

He squawked when his sister hit him in the shoulder, both seeing Eliza's reddened cheeks and shy looks. "Now stop it you two, He probably just wants to continue our previous conversation."

"And when exactly was this previous conversation?" Jeanine looked curious.

"On the train, he sat across from me." The three friends 'oo'ed' at this new fact, leaning in and asking what they'd spoken about, but Eliza was already walking out of the Great Hall, ignoring their cries for attention and hearsay. She briefly caught the eye of one of the Weasley twins on her way out—"What's the hurry, love?"—but rolled her eyes and kept walking, heels clicking against the cement floor.

Seeing as watches were a rarity in Hogwarts, she walked through to courtyard to eye the clock tower, seeing it a quarter to three, giving her more than enough time to find the DADA classroom. There were a handful of students lingering in the courtyard; some were exchanging class schedules, others animatedly talking about their summers, and others sucking face. She paid them no mind, walking along the new green shrubs and inside once more, eventually standing in front of the familiar DADA classroom.

She knocks once, thinking maybe just entering would've been better, but as the door opens and reveals Professor Snape, she thinks it was better that she knocked. He hasn't changed at all; still all black robes and dark shiny hair, nose looking down on her with curiosity. He raises a single brow and purses his lips.

Instead of spouting a sarcastic comment about her presence, or just staring as he something did, he fled the doorway and down the hall, cape billowing in his wake. She watched him go with a curious eye, wondering what had come over him when a gentle landed on her shoulder.

She pushed aside the warm feeling now in her shoulder, turning to greet Remus, who had a warm smile on his face. "I was beginning to think you wouldn't receive my letter in time."

His hand smoothly slid down to the back of her shoulder, urging her inside and shutting the door. She walked in tandem with him, looking at the desks laid out in rows, as well as the large chalkboard on display.

She couldn't resist remarking, "You never mentioned you were a Professor." He quipped, "You never asked."

She snorted, "I didn't think that Dumbledore's secret mission was hiring you as our new Professor." He chuckled and once more, with his hand on her shoulder, let them up to his office. "I told you Elizabeth, I was under strict instructions to not tell a soul my intentions for coming to Hogwarts, yourself included."

She had no right to feel a pinch of betrayal at his words, brows furrowing and lip pursing as her eyes watched him move around the room, eventually claiming the seat behind the desk. He kept his gaze on her, nodding to the seat in front of the desk, smiling when she perched herself on the edge.

She watches as he lifts his wand, commanding a tea seat to float and land on the desk, boiling hot tea pouring into each glass and steam billowing into the air. He paused his wand waving "Cream and Sugar?" to which she nodded and watched her once bland tea become sweet as a treacle tart.

She noticed he added no sweetener to his own tea, perhaps preferring a much more bitter beverage, waving the pot away and gingerly lifting his cup to blow. She reached for hers with intent to do the same but he stopped her with his own hand, shaking his head, "It's much too hot, give it a moment to cool."

"I would wait a moment," He flicked forward two chairs "They are quite hot." She nodded and smiled, in which he returned his own warm grin that caused her heart to flutter. He took a sip of his scalding hot tea and both his brows raised at just how hot the liquid was, setting it down with a frown.

She eventually reached for hers own cup, still blowing on the lip of her teacup before sipping at the sweetened tea with a smirk, oblivious to the eyes that were watching her pink lips.

He cleared his throat and she put her glass down, watching him with an expectant eye. "I did call you here for a reason, Elizabeth."

"And what reason would that be Professor?" She batted her eyes and watched him rise from his seat with a concentrated look, eventually skirting around the desk to stand in front of her.

He licks his lips and taps an irregular tune on the hardwood desk, "I wanted to express my concern straight to you, Elizabeth. I feel as though even if a Dementor attack is a highly unlikely situation that one would find themselves in, it very obviously is still a possibility."

She watched his nervously scratch at the wood. "I would very much like to teach you how to summon your Patronus."

Eliza had heard of a Patronus but didn't really know much about them. "It wouldn't be every day, nor would I be taking you away from your classes at any point in time—"

"I'd love to, Professor." She gave him a grin that could rival a thousand suns, trying not to fidget as he simply stared into her eyes, unblinking. It was like he was staring into her soul and she didn't know whether to shy away or embrace it. Eventually, he looked away and nodded, returning to his seat and sipping at his tea.


	3. Gazing into the Beyond

Eliza plopped down onto the bench, eyes wandering over the array of breakfast foods, eventually settling on two biscuits and a spoonful of fluffy eggs. She tended to fluctuate between fruits with meat for her morning meal, but found a craving for a buttery flakey pastry on this cloudy morning. Her friends had beaten her to breakfast, already digging into their meals with all of their noses stuck in the Daily Prophet.

Jeanine was in the middle, eyes stuck on every word. Eliza rolled her eyes, knowing that half of what the Daily Prophet wrote was false but couldn't help inquiring, "Anything interesting in the paper today?"

Daisy shrugged as she picked at her eggs, "Eh, just the regular gossip dribble—"

"Oh, shut it you." Jeanine let the newspaper flutter onto the tabletop, eyes ablaze with new gossip, words spilling out like a flood.

"It's the story following Sirius Black, shows all of the times he's been spotted—the last one was Hogsmeade, just a few days ago."

Eliza gulped, picking up and biting into her fluffy biscuit, nodding at Jeanine to continue. "Aurors are 'round the clock looking for him, it's why the Dementor's are here. Everyone's trying to find him first."

Desmond piped up, "I bet fifteen galleons we could find him first. He's just one man." He yelped when his twin smacked his shoulder with a frown, "He's not just a man, he's a crazed wizard that killed the Potter's. I hope the Aurors catch him soon."

Eliza could see the tension in her friends shoulder and tried to soothe her, "Don't worry Daisy, they'll find him." Eliza gave her a soft smile as Jeanine stuffed her face back into the newspaper, Desmond simply ignoring them in favor of eating another spoonful of eggs.

The group fell into silence and Eliza allowed her eyes to drift away from the Daily Prophet and rest on the ginger haired Professor that had claimed her thoughts last night, rummaging through her nightmares and claiming her dreamscape as his own.

It lit a fire in her belly, feeling his soft hands— _or would they be rough_ —on her skin, skimming and touching every inch of flesh he could reach. She'd grown to yearn for the Professor, biting her lip when his eyes found hers. He smiled and nodded in her direction until a tap on the shoulder from Professor Snape had him looking away.

Her calculated eyes watched the two Professors exchange words, not being close enough to read lips or catch any words, but also wanted to give the illusion of privacy and looked away… right into Jeanine's grinning face.

"And what seems to have caught Ms. Lizzie's eye?" She turned and made a faux shocked face before turning back to Eliza, "Well, I'll be damned, it's a certain _Professor_."

"Oh, shut it." Eliza stuffed a plump pork sausage in her mouth, juices spilling down her chin as her teeth broke through the tight casing. She gasped and tried to wipe away the mess, scowling at Jeanine's grinning face and awkwardly smiling at the judgmental gaze of Professor Snape. Remus's shoulders lightly shook in a chuckle at her mess, the two Professors eventually going back to their private conversation.

Desmond snorted and Daisy shook her head, both twins standing with a stretch, "Well, Daisy and I have Transfiguration in a bit, we'll see you two later."

Eliza waved them both off and finished her last few bites of breakfast, standing with Jeanine to stretch as well. She noticed both Professors' had already left and tried not to linger on their empty seats.

They exited the Great Hall, stopping at the entrance to the Courtyard to part ways. Jeanine inquired, "What'd you have today? Anything fun?"

Eliza tried not to snort with an eye roll, "Care of Magical Creatures with Hagrid, which should be pretty fun, but Potions right after. Hopefully, Snape isn't in the mood for some nonsense potion today. What about you?"

Jeanine, however, let out an ugly snort, "Divination with Trelawney. If I had a galleon for every time she asked us to look into the Beyond, I'd be more rich than the Ministry. " They both chuckled, hugging once before going their separate ways. Eliza went through the Courtyard and tried not to tumble down the steep hill to Hagrid's House, going past the small hut to find the new classroom meeting area.

There were a few students milling about, sticking together in huddles and gazing up at the full-length trees, multitudes of branches waving with the wind. She stood by herself, arms down at her sides and fit planted in a single spot. She could've tried to make friends, or simply introduce herself to the other students, but her inherit shyness had her standing silently and waiting.

Hagrid's footsteps could be heard a mile away, thundering the soil ground and shaking the tree leaves. He stood feet above the rest, enamored smile on his face as he introduced himself to the class.

"'Ello everyone! I'm Hagrid and I'll be your Professor for Care of Magical Creatures. Have any of you worked with a creature before?"

His eyes dimmed at the lack of raised hands, "Well… I guess today is your lucky day. Follow me." The group of students staggered behind him, eventually stopping in front of a large thatch of skinny reeds. Eliza tried to zero in on the reeds, but didn't see anything. Hagrid turned and explained, "The first lesson was supposed to be on Hippogriff's but… something came up, so instead, we have these little nifty guys. Who wants to hold 'em first? Anyone?"

Eliza was too busy trying to see what was in the reeds to realize that every other student had backed away from her, leaving her up front and within Hagrid's sight. "Elizabeth! Come on up."

He ushered her forward and she toed through the soft dirt to stand tall above the reeds, mimicking Hagrid and falling to her knees. Now that she was closer, she could see the little Bowtruckles. They were only a little larger than a hairpin, little arms and legs supporting their miniscule bodies. She was sure she even spotted little faces on the small Bowtruckles.

"Well, try and pick one up. Go on." Hagrid urged her to reach forward with her held out hand, eyes watching the small green creatures flutter around her fingertips in a flurry. One brave little Bowtruckle stepped onto her fingertip, waving off the others, who seemed to be yelling to come back. A brave one stepped onto her palm, Hagrid whispering, "I think he likes you."

She brought the little green being up to eye level, watching it stare back. She was vaguely aware of another student screaming, "What chapter is this in?" and Hagrid standing to offer his students some guidance. Eliza looked around at all the other students, seeing most of them off to the side with uninterested glances and sneers in her direction.

A noise like fairly lights tinkling above had her turning back to the Bowtruckle, now seeing it trying to run up her white shirt and fit in her pocket. She stifled a giggle and lightly picked it up, placing the small green body back on her palm, only to watch it run back to her pocket again.

"Well, aren't you a little bugger." It stared up as she placed it on her palm once more, smiling down. "Do you have a name?"

It's head turned, as if contemplating an answer and eventually shaking its head. "Hmm, well that won't do? What should I call you?"

"I'm going to call you Leaf, seeing as you have a few yourself. You are a small one aren't you?" She giggled as it thwacked the hand it was standing on. She pet its small head and tried to ignore the other staring Bowtruckles in favor of the one who had taken a liking to her.

"Class dismissed. Don't forget to do your reading in chapter 7." Most of the students bolted from the class, leaving Eliza on her knees with Leaf.

A sigh of sadness left her downturned mouth and she started to place the little leafy creature back on its stalk, but it was having none of that, for it held onto her thumb like a lifeline, refusing to part from her. She started to shake her hand- maybe it'd fall off or give up—but its hold was strong.

"Ah, he's taken a liking to you it seems." She turned to look at Hagrid, who was watching her hand with a jovial smile.

"It'd be wrong to part the two of you it seems, so if you promise to take care of em', then I guess I can look the other way." He raised his eyebrows at her and Leaf and she was a bit awestruck to be honest. It was a lot of responsibility to take care of a Magical Creature, and she really didn't know that much…

She stood and gave Hagrid a determined look, "I promise to take care of him Hagrid, you can count on me."

He watched her stomp off with a determined look, knowing that if anyone could keep that little Bowtruckle safe and sound, it was Eliza.

* * *

The Potions classroom was located in the Dungeons of Hogwarts; the deep dark corners hid shadows that housed everything from spiders and all arachnid kind. The only other living thing that resided in the pits of the Castle were the Slytherins, scrounging about in their green and black colored cloaks, hissing whenever the other houses invaded their territory.

And that wasn't to say that Potions class wasn't a feat in itself, but Eliza kept a cool calm face every time she ventured down the to the heavens below to partake in a simple Potions class with Professor Snape. That wasn't to say that this certain class wasn't a horror story to other students; others whispered the fears and devilish tales of Snape's classroom—ranging from his impossible to potions, to his enjoyment of taking House Points from every House but his own.

But Eliza typically brushed these tales off, knowing her own truth of Snape's classroom. She noticed every stare, every House Point not taken away, the less harsh sneers, though he still sniped at her from time to time. There was an odd relationship afoot with Snape, but Eliza didn't mind one bit.

Eliza gingerly took a seat near the front of the dark classroom. Only a few seconds passed before another body slid into the seat to her right, and she already knew who it was without looking. Their odd perfume was enough of a give away.

Their voice was full of glee, "Oh, Elizabeth, I do say it feels as though I haven't seen you in ages."

Eliza turned to meet the beady eyes of Silas, "We saw each other three hours ago, remember? Called my friend a mud-blood and all." She mindlessly pointed to the back of the room. "Isn't there someone else you can bother? I'm sure there are seats somewhere in the corner, you'd fit in well with the spiders."

Silas hissed back, "But you're my _favorite._ "

Their back and forth came to a halt as a _**Bang**_ resonated off the classroom walls, every student falling silent as Professor Snape stalked into the classroom, his cloak billowing behind. His wand flicked in the air and they watched as a piece of chalk lifted, gracefully writing _**Draught of the Living Death.**_

"Can anyone tell me what potion can reverse the effects of Draught of the Living Death?" Everyone would agree that Snape's voice could cut glass.

No one raised their hand, to which Snape merely crossed his arms before his chest and waited. Eliza felt her knee jiggling under the seat, resisting the urge her arm had to shoot up into the air.

Luckily, it seemed that a 6th year Hufflepuff Josiah had more courage than anyone.

"I believe its Wideye Potion, Sir."

Snape turned his gaze to poor Josiah and gave him a look that could make any child cry. He started a slow walk, speaking articulately about how only someone of a stature akin to a brainless chimp would know that a Wideye potion is used for awakening but instead has death like affects, and by the end of his rant Josiah looked like he wanted to faint.

"Anyone else have a guess?" And instead of walking around the class like before, Snape instead walked right to her desk and raised his eyebrow.

"If you would enlighten us Miss Jones, I would greatly appreciate it."

She gulped. "Wiggenweld Potion. Sir"

He hm'd and walked back to the front of the classroom and gave a deeper explanation of exactly how these two potions worked together.

The students partnered up to brew a Wiggenweld potion and Silas had no qualms about saddling up right next to Eliza with a smarmy grin. Strangely enough, they partnered for most potions; they worked well together even if they didn't get along.

Eliza and Silas went reaching for their books and, of course, Silas turned with a mock sad gaze and said she didn't have her book.

"We'll use mine this time but you better bring it next class." Silas drew an X over her heart and they started brewing, though quickly ran into a disagreement that had the two girls spitting in each other's faces.

"Can you read? It says _crush_ the bean, not whatever the hell you're doing?" Silas's voice was whispered but venomous.

"And I'm telling you, it's wrong." Eliza tried to reach for the small knife. "It's easier this way, I swear—"

Silas snarled like a snake, "But the book says so, and I'm not having _another_ one blow up in my face because you don't listen." They were nose-to-nose and practically breathing fire down each other's throats.

"Is there a problem here?" Snape had seemingly silently sauntered over and was looking down at the two girls with certain curiosity.

A sound barely got out of Eliza's throat before Silas was rambling at Snape, "Yes, Professor Snape, there is. Eliza here is clearly refusing to follow the instructions—"

"No I'm not!"

"—And now we're risking our potion for the sake of her own muses that could be entirely wrong. Don't you agree, Professor?

Snape made a disinterested face that had Eliza wanting to shrivel up and die.

"And exactly what changes did Miss Jones try to enact upon, if I may ask?"

Silas sat up straighter and Eliza visibly deflated. "She wanted to crush the Sopophorous Bean while the recipe clearly states it is to be cut."

One black eyebrow rose at Silas's words and Eliza watched as Snape nodded with a grim look. "I would've thought a Hufflepuff of your year would understand the following the exact instructions for any potion is vital to its success. How… _dissapointing."_

"I'm sorry, Professor Snape." Silas grins at Eliza's down tone and is ready to strike the bean with her knife when—

"And though nothing would bring me more joy than taking House Points from an insufferable Hufflepuff…" Eliza watched how his eyes gave her a quick once over and the lines visibly deflated on his angry aged face.

"I do believe it to be in your best interest to listen to Miss Jones. It seems her knowledge could be of some use."

If laughing weren't a sin in the potions classroom than Eliza would have let out the biggest guffaw in history. The portraits on the walls would have to speak of the day Eliza bested Silas at the hands of Professor Snape; truly a moment for the ages.

* * *

Jean retold the tale of her school day aloud; "And so, I'm sitting there and she comes up behind me to start whisperin' about some grim nonsense, and to be honest, I didn't really follow her for the most bit. I started to zone out once she went into the death and otherworldly nonsense."

"I mean, I really wonder sometimes how Dumbledore even hired her in the first place."

Daisy chimed in, "I think she gets taken for granted; you know, I do believe her for the most part." Jean snorted out loud, to which Daisy frowned.

"Do you really? You'd be the first, that I can assure you." She turned to Eliza, who hadn't said a word. "Hey Lizzie, you alright?"

The two girls looked to their friend with raised brows, watching the unresponsive Eliza stare out of the Hufflepuff tower window, her cheek resting against her palm. Jean went over to shake her friend but Daisy held her place, eyes squinting as she watched her friend.

Eliza came back to reality with a shake, "Huh? Is everything alright?"

Jean made her way back to her bed, flopping down on her belly. "You zoned out for a bit there… got something on your mind you want to share?"

Well, she was tempted to ask her friend her opinion of seeing Professor Lupin for Patronus lessons; there was a part of her that was saying this was wrong—he wasn't even her Professor—but another part of her was ecstatic at the idea of learning from a great Wizard and well, there was something about Professor Lupin she couldn't quiet put her finger on.

As if she'd spoken aloud of her thoughts regard the DADA Professor, Daisy belted out "Well? Anything to share? Anything at all?"

It was either the tone of her voice or the look in Daisy's eyes that had Eliza simply saying, "Nope, slipped my mind. But come see what Hagrid is letting me take care of for a bit!"

Daisy looked unhappy and Jean looked pleased as punch, watching Eliza pull out a little Bowtruckle. Eliza met her disgruntled friends eyes with a questionable frown, and watched Daisy thump off to the restroom.

"What's her problem?" Jean looked off in Daisy's direction for a moment and nothing longer, wanting to watch the cute little Bowtruckle.

"No idea."

Neither girl saw Daisy cry into the restroom sink, trying her hardest not to rip out her silk locks.


	4. Lesson One

Eliza loved that her life seemed to fall into a quant routine about a month into starting her new year at Hogwarts; the sprinkling of snow had swept through the bright grassy fields and left everything in a sheet of white. The visit to Hogsmeade was fast approaching and every student was eagerly looking forward to the trip away from the chilled classrooms; though every student was required to have a signed permission slip that many ended up forgetting and crying about as their friends trotted along to Hogsmeade.

Though that trip wouldn't be for a few weeks, so there was always time to get that signature.

Like always, Eliza had fallen into routine; Classes Monday through Thursday and every Friday she had to herself, though she usually spent the few lonely hours trying to find some way to keep from dying of boredom. There were days where she would find herself in front of Snape's classroom, offering assistance to his younger classes and trying to resist a grin whenever his black eyes softened at her offering of her services.

It was calming to help the younger years brew simply potions, and feel Snape's gaze on her back the entire time. He normally only let her help one class at a time before sending her away with a glare, though it was never with any of his normal malice.

Other days she visited Hagrid out near his small hut by the edge of the Forbidden Forest; the most fun she'd had been meeting Buckbeak. The Hippogriff was stunning up close, and she'd been furious to hear that Draco Malfoy—the annoying 3rd year and son of Lucius Malfoy—had seemingly approached the Hippogriff and been 'attacked'.

While she was not allowed in the Forbidden Forest, though that was merely Dumbledore trying to protect the students from the dangers that lurked in the trees, she _was_ allowed in with Hagrid at her side. The forest wasn't nearly as frightening during the day, though creatures still lurked in every corner.

There had only been one incident so far; a much larger than regular tarantula had approached her—well, more like scared the absolute daylights out of her—and Hagrid had seamlessly come to her rescue. He hadn't done much but coax the arachnid away with calm words and outstretched arms. `

She was much warier to go into the forest after that.

Though on this very specific day, she did neither of those things and instead found her footsteps lingering through the main castle corridors, taking every staircase and turning every corner. There were few students out and about, most with free periods either slept in or hunkered down in the Library.

The Divination Classroom was wide open and allowed a peek inside at the wide eyed first years, watching them tap their crystal balls with confusion. The Astronomy Tower was far out of her normal routine of walking, but found it a nice change of pace. She was gone before Professor Trelawney could spot her and offer a future sight that would no doubt require the next few hours.

Her feet continued on the un-planned path, a slow pace down multiple sets of moving stairs and eventually stopping at—

 _Oh._

It was Professor Lupin's classroom with the door shut closed. The last time she'd been here had for the _riveting_ lessons from Gilderoy Lockhart, and that had been a time she'd rather not remember. Taking a Defense Against the Dark Arts this year wasn't necessary, so she really saw no point.

Her feet stopped their walking and she nervously bit on her nails; was knocking at demanding his attention too much of her? What if he was busy teaching and would sneer at her rude interrupting? There were students in there that were hungry for all he had to offer.

 _But you seem quite hungry for him eh?_

She swatted away the thought that sounded weirdly like Jean and made to leave the empty corridor, not wanting to interrupt Remus Lupin from his important teachings. There was no fault in trying again later; besides, she needed to ask about the Patronus lessons.

The silent tactic she'd tried to use to quietly escape the hallway had gone unsuccessful, as the door to the very classroom she'd tried to avoid burst open with a loud bang, the face of one Professor Lupin smiling at her as brightly as the morning sun.

From what she could see from the doorway, all the chairs had been moved away and a single closet stood in the plain sight. She had not the slightest clue as to what they were doing, but she could say she was slightly interested.

"Elizabeth! Darling! I thought I heard you! Please, come in, we were just getting started."

She had barely had time to question how exactly he _heard_ her for she was sure she hadn't made a sound when he reached forward and gripped her slightly smaller hand in his, tugging her in and shutting the door with a flick of his wand.

A shallow red embarrassment flooded her senses as all eyes turned to watch Professor Lupin drag her across the classroom floor. Hermione look concerned while Harry Potter and Ron Weasley just stared in shock; Draco Malfoy masked his own curiosity with a sneer.

Professor Lupin released his hold on her— _was it odd that she found herself missing it—_ and he bellowed to the class, "Now, repeat after me. _Riddikulus_."

" _Riddikulus!"_

Eliza had never heard of this spell, but wanted to snort at the name. She watched Professor Lupin look around the classroom before setting his gaze on the shy 3rd year Neville Longbottom.

"Now Neville, what is it that frightens you?" Eliza's head snapped up to give the man a surprised look, but he gave her a smile in return.

Neville mumbled something that left everyone with raised brows, "Please, Neville, speak up."

"P-P-Professor Snape." Everyone in the room laughed, aside from Eliza, as she knew that he wasn't _that_ bad.

"Now Neville, I want you to picture your grandmothers' clothes all right? Just her clothes." Neville nodded, "She has a red handbag..."

Professor Lupin held up a silencing hand. "We don't need to hear it. Just picture it in your mind."

The young boy nodded and closed his eyes, and she watched as Professor Lupin walked over and whispered something in his ear, ignoring the feeling of coldness in the hand that had been previously engulfed in his much warmer one.

"Ready Neville? On my mark…" He counted down before pointing his wand at the closet glass door, watching the handle turn and release whatever was inside.

The whole room watched eagerly as a pale hand gripped the doorframe for a moment before stepping out, revealing a figure that left Eliza dumbfounded.

It was Professor Snape donning his black coat and all; his hair even looked as shiny as the real deal. Now even Eliza could admit that he did look quite frightening. He took two steps forward before Neville cast the spell right at him.

" _Riddikulus!"_

It was quite magical, and dare she say funny, to watch the malevolent looking Snape suddenly engulfed in what she could assume where Neville's grandmothers' clothes.

"Excellent, Neville, Excellent! Next up, Weasley!"

It turned out Ron was terrified of spiders, which Eliza will admit are a bit scary, but he had just as much luck as Neville, as the massive spider went from terrifyingly snapping its teeth at the red-haired boy to trying its best to stand on roller skates.

She let out a hearty laugh as Professor Lupin started up fun beat on his record player, prompting the next student to take their turn. It was exciting to watch each student walk up, to see the creature take a new shape, and for the student to overcome their fear turn their fear into laughter.

It was Harry Potter who was next, and Eliza felt a sense of dread at what shape the creature would take. She, as well as everyone at Hogwarts, knew the stories and fame that surrounded Harry. It would be no surprise if the creature became Lord Voldemort or some other morbid creature.

So when the young, slightly shaggy haired boy walked up and stared at the boggart, they all eagerly watched. It took a few moments for the creature to size up Harry and take its new shape, and Eliza would find that her guesses were both wrong.

It was a Dementor with a cloak as dark as night— _so much like the one from the train_ —and they all watched it breath in deeply and swoop down towards Harry. She held her breath as though it were a real Dementor, seeing Professor Lupin jump in front of the young 3rd year in a protective stance. The creature began to change once more.

Her eyebrows furrowed when it became a cloudy full moon, wondering why above all things he feared the _moon._

" _Riddikulus!"_ The moon popped like a balloon and weaved its way back into the closet with a slam, effectively ending the lesson. Professor Lupin smiled at his students and bid them away with a smile, looking to Eliza with a sharp gaze that spoke to her to stay behind.

When the door slammed shut and the last student was gone, Eliza started her questions. "What was that thing?"

Remus looked at her as she stared at the closed closet. "That, my dear, was a boggart. Mostly harmless but, as you witnessed with young Harry, sometimes they can get out of hand."

She nodded. "Can I ask why yours was the moon? I didn't think the moonlight would scare someone like you."

He paused in his step and stared at her, eyebrows creased in the middle. "Sometimes our fears are not practical nor sensical to others, but that does not make them any less of a fear."

She made to ask another question but he tutted his finger, beating her to it. "May I ask as to why you did not find yourself signing up for my class? I truly tried not to take offense when I witnessed your friend Daisy here but not you."

Shuffling around the room looking at nothing in particular she pondered her answer. "No reason in particular, though the history of Defense Against the Dark Arts Professors was not on your side." A chuckle followed her statement and she smiled when Professor Lupin joined in on the laugh.

"Will you tell me why you wanted me in your class, Professor?"

"Please, when we are alone, call me Remus." His request sent butterflies to her stomach, fluttering up into her throat and tickling her insides. It made her feel special to be allowed to call him simply _Remus,_ breaking the Professor/Student barrier.

He started walking to clean up the classroom when she remembered her main concern and slowly walked up to him. "Remus, I wanted to talk to you about the Patronus lessons."

When he turned to her there was a concerned look on his face, "Is something wrong?" She shook her head and tried to throw out his concerns with a smile.

"Not a concern, per say," she twiddled her thumbs and pondered aloud, "When exactly would we be starting our lessons?" He rose a single questioning brow as she rambled on, "I just want to be sure I have the time sorted out and all…"

"Hmm, I guess you're right," Remus leaned against a desk that had just moved to its original position on the classroom floor. "What works best for you, my dear? You seem to not have classes at this very moment and I have just finished the last class of the day. Would now be alright?"

She tried not to let his choice of words flutter her insides and nodded, "Of course, right now works perfect." They stared at one another and she felt her throat close up, even biting her lip as his eyes remained on hers.

The spell was broken as a bird squawked loudly at one of the windows, prompting Remus to let out a nervous chuckle.

"Let's not keep waiting, follow me." The pair trailed up the stairs to his office, allowing the door to swing shut and lock behind Eliza. The office looked no better than before, though a few more things seemed to have found their proper places, such as his green cloak from the train now rested on a hook, and she spotted a lone tea seat resting on a trunk that had become a small table. This was probably the most organized it would ever look.

Remus walked behind his desk and removed the light brown coat from his shoulders, lowering it to cover the back of the desk chair with ease. He stood tall and adjusted his buttoned up shirt, smiling at Eliza. "All right, first things first, what can you tell me about a Patronus?"

"Well," she shrugged her shoulders, "Not much, really. I think I've heard that they're based off of your most happy memories, or something like that."

"A good start but there's more to it. A Patronus is a something that even the strongest wizards have trouble with; it's a projection of your happiest memories, which is typically what a Dementor feeds on, though it is immune to any such harm. It's one of the strongest forms of magic out there, and its one of the only thing Voldemort was never able to produce."

Eliza's eyebrows shot up to her hairline, "Voldemort can't create one? W-Why?"

"One's Patronus is a reflection of their fondest memories, but someone must have even a shred of happiness to create one."

It was unspoken but she understood his point; Voldemort had _no_ happiness, not a single positive memory inside, meaning that he'd never been able to conjure one. But that had her thinking—

"Do you have one?" And he nodded with a smirk, "Let me guess, you'd like to see it?"

Her head shook with unadulterated enthusiasm, and Remus found he was unable to resist the eager look in her eyes, "Alright, alright, stand over there and watch."

They took their places and she watched him inhale deeply with shut eyes, probably concentrating deeply and searching for his happiest memories; it made her wonder what it could possibly be.

His wand lifted and pointed above towards the ceiling, " _Expecto Patronum."_

It was magical to watch the silvery wisps of light flow from the tip of his wand, strand after strand, eventually forming a full shaped creature that had her gazing in awe.

It was a _wolf._

"It's beautiful," she whispered into the air, not aware that Remus heard her soft words and felt his own heart flutter. The Patronus stared at Eliza in the corner of the room, its unseeing eyes watching with an emotion she couldn't discern. Remus watched her from his position behind the Patronus; the wolfs tail wagged and started a run around the room, fading at last with one look at Eliza.

Remus started to pocket his wand and shuffle to the back of his desk, "I do think that's enough fun for one day, don't you?"

"What? No, of course not." Eliza wanted to shake him silly and hug him even closer. "That was amazing! Can I do that too? What do you think mine will be?"

One of his hands lifted to silence her onslaught of questions, "I promise you, we will start practice next week. For now, I'd like to grade some papers."

There was no room for argument and Eliza visibly deflated and scowled at Remus, but he simply smirked. "Farewell, Elizabeth."

"Goodbye, Remus."

He watched her leave his office and shut the door, rough nails scratching at his scalp as he heard her footsteps fade. Elizabeth Jones was going to be the death of him.

The classroom door had just shut behind Eliza when a cough echoed through the hallway

"You know, I didn't take you for much of a dog lover." Silas showed her wretched self with a sneer, fingernails tapping a beat against the concrete wall. There was an air of superiority surrounding the Slytherin, and if attacking a student didn't end in suspension, then Eliza was sure she'd had been thrown out of Hogwarts ten times over.

"What'd you want? Don't you have some first years to torment?" Eliza tried to simply side step the girl, but a manicured hand put a quick stop to that. And it was then the anger at the other girl insulting Remus flooded in, "And besides, it's rude to insult a Professor."

"Who ever said I was talking about Lupin?"

The two stared at each other; Silas looking unimpressed and Eliza ready to kill.

"Look," Silas explained, "I wouldn't be here if I had to, so just hear me out so I can leave. Alright?"

Eliza nodded and Silas continued, "I have a request from Snape—"

Eliza reared back like she'd been hit, "What the hell does Snape have to do with anything?"

"He says to stay away from Lupin; that he's bad news and I'll be honest in saying I agree. There's something about those scars that isn't right."

A fury bellowed in Eliza's veins at everything that left Silas's mouth, not wanting to believe that Snape would ask his Slytherin to say such things. There was nothing wrong with spending non-class time with Remus. It wasn't like they were doing anything wrong by practicing spells that she'd asked to learn.

It wasn't like she was going to _kiss him_ or anything.

"And Professor Snape told you to tell me this?" Silas nodded and added, "Said I'd even get out of our next essay. But only if I told you, which I have."

She pulled back from Eliza but kept her gaze solely on her.

"Let's be clear; I don't like you and I really don't get what Snape sees in you. We're not friends, and I'm not doing this for you." She watched the Slytherin stalk away with a hard face, own confused look on her face.

Why was Snape doing this?

* * *

"And she just walked away? I guess I wouldn't put it past Silas to be working for Snape." Daisy scoffed at her brother, watching as her shoved another buttery biscuit into his already squirrel-cheeked mouth, seemingly ignoring her.

"I think she's been hit on her broom one too many times, you know it messes up the brain and all that." Jean reached across the table for more pumpkin juice, "I wouldn't be surprised if they were all actually mad."

Eliza looked at her friend with slight intrigue, "What'd you mean by that?"

"Well, at least from what I've heard round here, is that her father and You-Know-Who were quite close. He's never been outed as a Death Eater but I wouldn't be shocked if the whole family took _his_ mark."

The group of friends turned to the Slytherin table, staring at the girl in question as she laughed with Draco Malfoy.

"And don't even get me started on the Malfoy's." The group of friends finished their meal after that and made their way to the common rooms.

Jean and Eliza lay in their separate beds, staring at the ceiling in the pitch-black room. Silence surrounded the dark room and most of the girls had already drifted off to a peaceful sleep. There was no moonlight shining in from the outside sky, only the black shapes of Dementors floating about, still searching for Black.

Eliza whispered into the night, "Do you think she's right, that Snape cares about me?"

"I think he looks at you in a way he looks at no one else." Jean whispered back and turned her body to face Eliza.

Silence once again suffocated the Hufflepuff Dormitory, and Eliza was surprised she eventually found sleep.

* * *

Eliza watched as Hagrid cried tears of agony for Buckbeak; the news of Buckbeak's fate had reached the weeping Hagrid, and it hurt her to watch him be so broken over the foreboding death of his Hippogriff.

She had been horrified to learn that Lucius Malfoy had felt that after Draco had _provoked_ Buckbeak and been _barely_ scratched that the Hippogriff was a feral beast and deserved death. This just fed into the assumption that the Malfoy's practically owned the Ministry, seeing as it was no shock that Cornelious Fudge had agreed and now—

"Oh Buckbeak! I'm so sorry! I never wanted this for you!" Eliza patted his back and let him cry some more, knowing that he needed as much consoling as he could get.

"And you're certain Dumbledore can't change their minds?" He let out a louder wail that had her cringing. " _Not even Dumbledore could stop Lucius Malfoy!"_

She went to offer another suggestion—it was terrible of her to think that there might not have been a way out of this for Buckbeak— when the door to Hagrid's Hut was thrown open with Daisy talking a mile a minute. The slightly younger Hufflepuffs hair was a frizzy mess that even donned a few stuck twigs and a light sheen of sweat.

"Hold on," Eliza led Daisy to sit down and take a few deep breaths. "Alright, what's wrong?"

"It was Quidditch practice for the big game and we don't know who did it yet, but someone threw Jean off her broom."

It was similar to an electric shock, the feeling of hearing those words from her friends mouth and not really understanding exactly what she was hearing. The words went in one ear and directly out the other, leading her to simply stare at Daisy, mouth open in a confused gape.


	5. Conflicted

The walk away from Hagrid—"I swear on my life I'll try to convince Dumbledore to do something"—and up the grassy hill, all the way back to Hogwarts had been filled with an angrily muttering Eliza and a soft eyed Daisy, the younger Hufflepuff trying to ease the tension in her friends shoulders. " It really isn't was bad as you think—"

Eliza abruptly stopped and turned with a glare, lips almost parted in a snarl. Daisy didn't dare finish her sentence, simply shuffling after Eliza's flurrying huff. They reached the foreboding Hospital Wing doors in a pinch, pulling them open and storming inside. Madame Pomfrey was surprisingly absent, but Jean immediately propped up in her bed, "Hey, it's my friends!"

"You! You irresponsible pillock!" Eliza marched over to the one occupied hospital bead and thwacked her friend on her unbroken arm. "How in the hell did you break not only your arm, but your leg as well?"

Jean smiled as started explaining exactly what had happened in the Quidditch field, "I swear, I didn't do this just to piss you off. Oliver Wood asked caught me near the pitch this morning and asked if I could replace Alicia Spinnet for the upcoming game; apparently, she woke up vomiting slugs and Dumbledore sent her to St. Mungo's."

Eliza clenched her jaw at Jean's pleading eyes, "I couldn't say no to Oliver Wood! He's a darling, and he just asked so nicely."

"Have you ever even played Quidditch?"

"… Not exactly." Jean smiled before deflating a bit into her seat. "I really don't know how it happened, honest. One moment I was on my broom and the next I was falling. It wasn't like I did it on purpose, _Mum."_

"Don't get defensive with me, you're the one joining a Quidditch game when you've never even played. You're lucky you didn't crack open your skull."

"If I had then maybe I wouldn't have to hear you scold me like a child for the millionth time. I'd have called my own Mum if I wanted to be called an idiot." Jean spat before falling back against the fluffy pillows, looking away from her friend's dejected face.

Eliza took a breather and calmed herself down, realizing that talking down to her friend would get them nowhere. She gave in and nudged her friends shoulder, "Alright, I'm sorry."

"No." Jean refused the apology with an upturned nose. "I reject your lame apology."

"But—" Daisy decided to make herself present at that moment, going to the other side of Jean and offered sweet words to her friend. "C'mon Jean, she apologized. Be nice."

"Oh, like that's a surprise, taking _Elizabeth_ 's side like always." Jean spat her friends name with fiery eyes. "That's no surprise."

The three girls let the loud silence encompass the Hospital Wing. It was only when the doors opened and Madame Pomfrey teetered back in did the girls put their negative energy on someone else. Pomfrey's voice was stern, a hard stare at the bed-ridden Jean. "And how are we feeling now? Any aches or pains?"

"Still aches a bit," and Jean worried her bottom lip, "Are you going to give me any Stele-grow? I do have a game tomorrow, you now."

"Pfft! That's only for complete breaks that would take months to heal, dearie," Pomfrey stared at Jean with a hard eye, "And besides, even with the bones re-growing, you'd need at least a week of bed rest. No Quidditch for you."

"But—But I have to! I promised Oliver Wood!' Pomfrey shrugged her aged shoulders. "I guess Mr. Wood will have to find someone else to take your place."

Now, some would call it stupidity, or just complete rejection of sense and logic, but whatever it was that prompted Eliza to step forward and proclaim, "I'll take your place on the team," must have been something that no wizard had hear of. The look of utter disbelief and shock on Jean's face, and the utter bewilderment of Daisy's—even Pomfrey looked surprised—was enough to have Eliza nearly running from the too crowded room. But Jean's hand reaching out and snagging her had her footsteps faltering.

The look in her oldest friends eyes was disbelief, "You'd do that? For me?"

"I'd do anything for you, Jean. You're my friend, and—" _I'd die for you, Jean._

She kept those words to herself and lurched forward to hug her friend, the two girls keeping their embrace for more than a few seconds. The bond between the two of them was stronger than anyone neither knew nor could understand; they were an unbreakable force not even Oliver Wood and his Quidditch game could break apart.

They pulled away and shockingly enough; Jean looked a little tear eyed. "Sorry for snapping at you. I know you mean well, I do."

"And I'm sorry for sounding like your Mum." That had them snickering, before Jean asked a very good question.

"Have you ever flown a broom before?" Eliza looked sheepish, "Uhm, not since 3rd year, maybe even 4th. I know the basics and that's really it. "

"That's good enough." Daisy finally cut in and stepped toward to duo, "Just dodge and watch your back, that's all there really is."

"Well," Eliza gave a half titled grin, "Guess I have a busy day tomorrow."

* * *

The Potions Classroom seemed darker and murkier this time around; the pairs of students were all huddled against one another as Professor Snape loomed over theme, his arched nose a beacon of doom for all.

"Can anyone tell me the second ingredient in the potion you are about to brew?"

The Potions classroom was fairly silent, even Eliza not knowing the answer. She hadn't been able to find her textbook and was nervous to tell Professor Snape she required another one—she hadn't forgotten the words Silas had said previously about Snape's disdain for Remus, and his worry for her well being—and unfortunately it seemed that Silas had been called back to her home and she was left partner less. The Slytherin had sneakily snagged the Hufflepuffs book after their last Potions class.

"No one?" He took one look at all of the young blank faces. "Pity."

Eliza barely heard him command the class to start their potions with swiftness, standing on shaky legs with an uneven breath. It wasn't as though she was scared of Snape or anything, knowing that that Professor wouldn't actually hurt her, though there was some anger in his voice whenever he spoke to anyone that wasn't a Professor.

And now she stood in front of his seated form, fingering her long sleeves "Is there a spare book I can use?"

"Why exactly would require you to need a spare, Miss Jones?" His tone was bored.

She gulped, "I seem to have forgotten mine, Sir," she tried to apologize, "I'm terrible sorry, Sir—"

One pale hand lifted and her mouth closed with audible noise, eyes watching as he pulled back one drawer in his desk and procured one textbook—it was strange that he was giving her one from his desk and not the usual cupboard with the other books—but she reached to take it with a grateful smile.

"Thank you, Professor." She made to turn and leave but Professor Snape surged up to his natural height that shadowed the Hufflepuff, leaning down to speak directly in her face.

"I require your assistance two days from now. It seems Lupin will be unable to teach his class and has asked me to cover." There was no question in his tone, so there was no room to even _deny_ him.

"Of course, Professor, but may I ask why—" His nose was nearly touching her hairline as he surged even closer, black eyes heady and full of annoyance. "No, you may not."

He pulled back a hair of an inch, "You are aware that your concern for Lupin concerns me, and as a Professor of this school, I am within my right to assume that you and Lupin are up to something. Prove me wrong, Miss Jones."

She gulped and nodded, scurrying back to her seat and sitting down at the single table, practically feeling Snape's eyes on her. What did he think he knew? Did he know something about Remus that she didn't?

Was it wrong, the way she felt about Remus? It certainly didn't feel wrong—in fact, it felt right. Being around him felt so nice and warm, like she was cuddled up in a blanket that would never let her go. Was it wrong to feel so right?

She felt a smile grace her lips as images of Remus entered her mind, fingers running along the seams of the worn down old book. It looked worse for wear than the one she used to have, but she opened it nonetheless, taking in the cursive words sprawled across the top of the first page.

 _ **This book is the property of The Half Blood Prince**_

Who in the hell was the Half Blood Prince?

Her eyes darted to the other students before shooting a glance at Professor Snape, only to quiver when she found him to be staring straight at her. A nervous smile was thrown his way before she returned back to the textbook, opening it more and burrowing her brows in mild confusion. There were notes, markings and she was tempted to close it and give it back to Snape, but when she read them closely, she nearly gasped.

The markings were instructions; they were modifications on the anything from ingredients to steps to the actual effect of the potion. She could only assume that they were correct, she had no reason not to, and started searching for the potion they were required to do, which happened to be the Elixir to Induce Euphoria.

She was slightly shocked at the amount of writing on the page—it was a messy sprawl that sometimes looked to messy to read—but she did her best, occasionally looking around to make sure no one could see her modified book.

Snape stood from his desk and she shut the book, sitting back as he stalked the dark classroom with a judgmental eye. "It seems none of you were able to produce an acceptable potion."

He stopped next to her cauldron, turning to raise one simple eyebrow. "Almost, all of you."

She hid her smile in her hands as he continued to stalk and berate the class, thanking the mystery half blood prince.

* * *

Of course, there was no doubt that luck was indeed not on Elizabeth Jones side, for the raging storm just happening beyond this room was enough to have her questioning the decision to even play in the game. It felt strange to be wearing the red and gold marks of Gryffindor and not the usual yellow and black. The uniform had been last minute—no Gryffindor was apparently her height and had as thick thighs and hips as herself—and was a bit snug around the calves. It would do for just this one game, and the broom by her side hadn't been used in years. The wood was unstained, unmarred and nearly fresh.

But then again, an unused broom was unpredictable.

"Attention!" Oliver Wood stood before his team, eyebrows hard and mouth pursed, "There's a storm out there and it doesn't look pretty, so keep your eyes sharp and try to stay straight," All of the Gryffindor's—and one Hufflepuff—nodded with determined eyes, following Oliver out onto the field.

She was the last one to board her broom and shoot onto the field, wind and rain hitting her like a ferocious punch to the head. The thick protective glasses covered the top portion of her face, and were quickly becoming soaked with rain. There was no time to try and figure out exactly who was Slytherin and who was Gryffindor, and her eyes zeroed in on the Quaffle, following it with urgency.

The wind buffered against her tied back ponytail, whipping it back and forth and slapping the sopping end against her cheeks. Two players came on her sides and started closing in tightly, even starting to bump into her with an eagerness that jolted more than her broom.

Her eyes scanned the surrounding field, looking through the misty rain to try and see a way out of this Slytherin sandwich. It took perfect timing and a sharp turn to the center of the field that effectively dislodged her from between the two brooms, watching them nearly crash into one another.

A flurry of gold stopped in front of her glasses—the Snitch, fluttering like a butterfly in the pouring rain—and her attempt at snatching it failed—once, twice—and she tore after it like a bullet.

The little snitch was fast and clever, mazing around the field and shooting past every player with a clever ease. But she was relentless in her chase—funny enough, she was nearly hit by a stray Quaffle—and only stopped when instead of going forward, it went _up._

One of the Slytherin Seeker's shot up into the dark sky, disappearing into the ominous clouds. She looked around the wet and grey field, not seeing the Gryffindor Seeker go after the Snitch—

"Elizabeth!" Her name was yelled from her left, the wet figure of Harry Potter appearing on his Nimbus 2000, "I've got it!"

He shot up into the sky right after the Slytherin player; Elizabeth's glasses pelted with water as she stared up after him. It was the nervous feeling in her gut that had her broom rearing up and shooting up after him, barely hearing the surprised yells from the stands, as well as the eyes of one Professor Snape watching her disappearing form with unease.

The rain scoring her chest felt more of a nuisance than an actual pain, though it was easier to fly directly up than side to side. The air was colder the higher she got, and lightening flashed at the corner of her squinted eyes.

One particularly loud rumble had her stopping in place and resting in air, watching furious lightening surround the dark clouds. It may have just been her cold ridden brain, but the cloud distinctly looked like a dog. It was gone with a harsh rush of wind, and she continued her race up—

The Slytherin player from before soared past her, going back down towards the Quidditch match at a pace faster than she'd seen all day. His face had gone by too fast to see an emotion, but the feeling of dread grew in her stomach—a flash of black shot past the corner of her eye, her breaths starting to grow uneven as more flashes soared by.

A cracking reverberated through her ears as the glass around the edge of her goggles froze—it was time to go back down. She could only hope that Harry made his way back down safely, and she let herself fall back on her broom, racing back down through the clouds.

Her heart felt as though it would beat out of her chest, and her breaths grew frantic as she continued to race to the Quidditch field.

A yelp escaped her mouth as a brown object flew past her and out of sight, and a force akin to a body slammed against her back, effectively knocking her off her broom. There was no time to try and reach for the body that she knew was Harry, or even her broom, as she fell through the air.

Fear encompassed her every thought and her limbs became immobile, her eyes closing as her body fell faster and faster. The horrified screams of the students watching the two Quidditch players race freefell towards the ground was inaudible to Eliza and Harry, both students falling unconscious just as Dumbledore stood and raised a lone hand.

* * *

Remus Lupin was a conflicted man.

Confliction such as this hadn't been felt since he was a young man, debating the betrayal of Sirius Black and the death of the Potters. But now, here he was—

 _Conflicted._

The private quarters he'd been gifted by Dumbledore were more than he'd ever expected to receive, and they allowed him moments such as this. It was too close to the full moon for him to be out around students, around other people, around—

A groan echoed through the room as he pictured the girl who'd wracked his every thought and desire since the train ride to this school; Elizabeth Jones. She was sin in the form of a Hogwarts student, and every carnal desire erupted just at the _smell_ of her. It was the sweet honeysuckle and vanilla scent that wracked his brain and caused him to think the most conflicting thoughts; ones of mating the sweet girl and biting the soft curve of her neck that was meant to bear his mark. Images of mounting her supple hips and feasting on her growing breasts made him feel more beast than man.

And yet, these thoughts felt so _right._ Yes, he felt like a beast and that only Azkaban could keep her safe from him, but he wasn't blind to the soft gazes she sent his way, or the way her scent spiked when he was near. And when he'd touched her hand, he'd nearly salivated at the mouth, wanting to present his own neck to the darling girl that had a hold over him.

Did she even know of the hold she had? How desperate he was?

A whimper left his throat and his hands scrambled to unbutton his trousers, wanting to palm his stiff cock while his mind was fresh with Eliza. They were almost off when a harsh beating sounded against his door, a growl echoing through the room as the wolf inside grew angry at the interruption.

He was tempted to just let them piss off, but they didn't let up, and Remus hastily buttoned up his pants and stalked to the doorway, pulling open the door with a growl, "What is it?"

Minerva McGonagall stood in front of Remus with a grimace, "You'll want to come see this, Professor."

* * *

Jean was propped up in her bed, glaring at the Gryffindor crowd surrounding one Harry Potter with excitement and overzealous worry. The lot of them were still covered in rainwater and smelt like dirt, all waiting for Harry to wake up.

A sleeping Eliza—who also sported a minute hairline fracture and a sprained wrist—was silent next to Jean, and she felt right rancid for her friends state, knowing she'd gone ahead and played in the game just to make her happy. And look at her now; unconscious and broken.

Jean felt _vile._

3rd year Hermione Granger had been the one to explain what exactly had happened; Dementor's had been over the field and had attacked Harry when he'd been going for the Snitch, and he'd slammed into Eliza on his fall down, knocking her off her broom. Dumbledore had stopped them in time but he'd been furious, ending the game and sending the Dementor's off.

Madame Pomfrey had seen to Eliza first before setting her sleeping form in the bed next to Jean, moving onto help Harry and his brigade of fans. Jean would never say this out loud, but Harry Potter was slightly overrated.

Nightfall came quick and Madame Pomfrey made her last check up on the two sleeping figures, shutting the door for the night. The rain had stopped pelting against the windows and Jean found she enjoyed the silence, trying to fall into a dreamless sleep for the night.

Except—

Whoever had just entered the Hospital Wing was trying their best to be silent and she heard them tip toe across the hard floor, stopping somewhere near her bed. They didn't make a noise at first, and her heart thumped in her chest with unease.

"Hello, darling." The voice was soft and more of a murmur, but she listened as they spoke. There was a scuffling noise—maybe they were moving the blanket in Eliza's bed—and they continued, "I leave you alone for one day and you end up her. I guess we can agree you'll keep me on my toes."

It was voice that felt familiar, but she couldn't quiet place it. There was no doubt she'd heard it before, but where…

It took absolute concentration to not jump when the door slammed once more, a voice she recognized this time, uttering, "I should've known you'd be here, _Lupin."_

What the hell? Professor Lupin was visiting Eliza at the Hospital Wing? This was starting to get strange.

"Ah Severus, what brings you here?" Lupin muttered back and she heard Snape step towards Eliza's bed.

"I could say the same to you," he spat, "Though I assume you enjoy a walk in the moonlight?"

Opening her eyes wasn't an option at this point, but she was desperate to see what was going on at the bed right next to her. Lupin sighed, "Please, Severus, can't we be civil—"

Snape growled, "I didn't come for you, Lupin," he paused, "I don't know why Dumbledore is determined to endanger the school with your insufferable presence, but I'm going to figure out why."

There were a flurry of movement and then the door shut once more, leaving Eliza alone with Jean in the the Hospital Wing. At least—

"I trust this will stay between us, Jeanine."

The door clicked shut and she sat up, wondering what in the hell had just happened.

"Dammit, Eliza," she sighed, questioning everything, "What the hell have you gotten yourself into?"


	6. Forbidden

"Are you sure you're alright, dearie?" Madame Pomfrey grunted as the 6th year Elizabeth Jones waved off her help, standing on unsteady legs with a determined gaze, "I'm fine, Madame Pomfrey. You should be worrying about Jean, not me. And I promised Professor Snape I'd assist him this afternoon—"

Pomfrey waved off her words "Don't mind Severus, you need your rest and shouldn't be out and about all willy nilly."

"I think Pomfrey is right, Liza, come back and rest your little noggin'." Jean waved over her friend with a soft but wary smile, "Snape can go one day without your help. Come keep your best friend company."

Eliza wouldn't say it out loud, but Jean had been awful weird since she'd woken up; the other girl smiling oddly bright and practically begging her to stay.

But Eliza wasn't giving up, "I promise I'll be back later. Rest up."

And then she was out of the Hospital Wing and back into the Hogwarts Corridors, a practical skip to her step as the dreary sunlight hit her bandaged wrist. The crack on the crown of her skull had been healed overnight, but the wrist would be a nuisance for the coming days.

The actual memory of the Quidditch game was foggy; nothing past chasing the Snitch really remained in her past sight, though Jean had made sure to bring her up to date on all she'd missed, which wasn't much. Dumbledore had banished Dementor's to the Forbidden Forest and Harry had woken up that morning and went about his day with his destroyed Nimbus 2000. When Eliza had asked if anyone had come across her broom, instead of admitting they hadn't looked, they just shrugged their shoulders.

The hallways held a few lingering students—most of them openly gawked at her with judgmental eyes—but she ignored them in favor of speeding to the Defense Against the Dark Arts Classroom, knocking once and catching her breath.

She was abruptly turned by one pale hand and stared up at the face of Professor Snape, watching him raise one eyebrow at her presence. It felt as though he was analyzing her current state—felt his beading eyes stare at her bandaged wrist.

"I'd assumed you'd be in the Hospital Wing under the supervision of Madame Pomfrey, but once again, you seem to defy even myself." His words were lacking their usual bite but still had her shuddering.

She stood straight and let her injured wrist fall behind her back, "Well, Professor, I couldn't leave you to teach alone, could I?"

Her attempt to turn and walk into the classroom is foiled by the hand still resting on her shoulder, his eyes watching her like a hawk. He eventually releases her and lightly pushed her into the classroom before stalking past with ease, wand out and shutting each blind with precision.

Eyes watched as Eliza seamlessly slid around the corner of the classroom, planting into an empty side seat that held a few roll books and assignments in need of grading. She refused to acknowledge any of the looks as she marked who was there and who was absent. The voice of Draco Malfoy stood out from the rest, and Harry Potter lingered in there too.

"Turn to page 394."

Snape's tone dripped with annoyance and he stalked back to the projector. Eliza gave a soft smile to the nervous Ronald Weasley, frowning at the empty seat next to him, noting Hermione Granger proved to not be present with her normal duo. It was an oddity, to see the young Granger missing, but she ticked her name off and moved on down the list, eventually sitting back and watching Snape.

"Werewolves?" Ron sounded befuddled, turning back to glance at a blank faced Snape.

"But, Sir," the airy childlike voice of Hermione Granger piped up, surprising not only a confused Ron Weasley but Eliza as well. "We were just learning about red caps and hinkypucks."

Eliza did a double take; looking back and forth between the black marks next to Hermione's name, absolutely, positively, sure that the 3rd year hadn't been there just the moment before. It was a head-scratching situation, but she had no choice but to correct the mark, watching Snape start his lecture.

"Now, can anyone tell me the difference between a werewolf and an Animagus?" Hermione's hand was the only one that shot up, but Snape snidely remarked "No one? How disappointing."

Eliza internally cringed as Hermione chirped out "Professor, please," wishing the younger girl knew that no matter what answer she gave, it would only result in a sneer and insult.

"An Animagus is a wizard who chooses to turn into an animal; a werewolf has no choice. A werewolf on the full moon would kill his best friend, they respond to the call of their own kind."

And as any student would expect, Snape tore into her with no mercy, his words scatching and crude, "Are you incapable of restraining yourself… or do you take pride in being an insufferable know-it-all?"

A small shred of pity went out to the young 3rd year, and Eliza turned down to grade the stack of parchments she'd neglected since walking in, only in and out on the werewolf topic at hand, wondering why he'd chosen this of all topics.

The rest of the class went by fairly fast; Draco Malfoy wore a brace on his 'injured' arm and took great pride in pestering one Harry Potter, and Ron Weasley continued to be obtuse on the lesson. She was nearly through half the pile when Snape released the students with two rolls of parchment due a few days from then, stalking his way to glare down at Eliza.

His eyes scanned the graded parchment, "You seem to have exceeded my expectations once more, Miss Jones."

She stood with a stretch, "Always happy to help, Professor. Though… if I may ask?"

His blank expression was enough of a 'yes'. "Has something happened to Professor Lupin?"

She could see it was the wrong question to ask as his face grew hard, nose scrunching and lips flattening to a sneer. The utter revolt in his eyes had her wanting to fall back into a shell a walk away, but his stare held her frozen.

"No idea." He shrugged and stalked away, grabbing his textbook on his stride out of the door, shutting it with a slam, leaving Eliza by herself in an empty classroom.

She left the papers on the desk and silently left the classroom, frowning at the way Snape had answered her, just knowing there was something going on that she just hadn't figure out. Remus missing, Hermione Granger appearing out of thin air, and this odd change of lesson plan to werewolves; why did it feel like she was missing something?

* * *

One week following the disastrous day on the Quidditch Pitch, the Hogsmeade trip came for every desperate student.

Hogsmeade was bustling with activity; every store filled to the brim with hyperactive students that wanted more sweets than they could carry. The upper years were hiding out in The Three Broomsticks, drinking their fill in Butterbeer and the occasional shot of Firewhisky.

Eliza, Jean, Daisy and Desmond strolled out of Honeydukes; Desmond's pockets were brimming with sugary concoctions that would no doubt rot his pearly whites, and he was the one currently directing where'd they go next. Eliza held onto Jean's wrapped up arm, sighing to herself and watching her friends have more fun than herself.

It wasn't that she hadn't been looking forward to this trip for weeks, but the fact that she hadn't seen Remus in the entire time since she'd been released from the Hospital Wing. There was a hollow feeling on her chest—it was almost painful to really focus on this pressure in her chest—and she found herself craving the sight of his ginger hair, or a glimpse of the scars lining his cheeks.

Oh god, she even missed his _smell_ ; the earthy musk that seemed to permeate his being and enter into every pore on her body.

"What do you think?" Reality slammed back into Eliza, and the images of Remus faded into the snowy background, Desmond's waiting stare filling her vision. "Knock, Knock, Anyone home?"

Jean tugged on Eliza's thick jacket, "Something the matter?"

The guilt that followed not telling her friends about her odd and nearly inappropriate thoughts about Remus Lupin still lingered a bit, festering every time that anyone of them looked at her with a wondering gaze. She wanted to tell them, honest, but was so scared they just wouldn't understand. Possibiltes of judgement and disgust were too high.

Hell, she barely understood it herself. So, for now, she'd keep it to herself.

"I'm fine, just thinking about Buckbeak is all, but sorry, what were you saying?" Daisy didn't look convinced but Desmond didn't question Eliza's lame excuse, puckering his lips and recalled his previous question, "Did you want to head to the Three Broomsticks for a bit? Or did you have something you wanted to do?"

"Three Broomsticks is fine. I could go for a Butterbeer about now." The four friends trudged through the snow and calmly entered the pub, finding a table near the back. Desmond dug into his pocket for a moment, face filled with determination as he searched.

"Is that Slughorn? The hell do you think he's doing in here of all places?"

Eliza followed Jean's finger and well, there he was, waving to Madame Rosmerta and trailing up a secluded pathway of stairs. It was the reserved area for business meetings, and curiosity bloomed in Eliza.

"What'd you thinks going on up there?" Jean clenched her jaw and glared as Desmond produced a novelty ear with a grin, "I'll be back, get me a Butterbear, yeah?"

There was no time to stop him from running off, ear hidden in his clenched fist. "What do we do if he gets caught?"

Daisy shrugged, "Act like we don't know him?"

"But you're twins?" Jean made a point, but Daisy shrugged again, "Not then we're not."

The three girls chuckled before Eliza stood and offered, "I'll get us drinks, yeah?" She stood and slipped off her coat, making way to the bar to pay for the four Butterbeers—

"Sorry!" The apology flew as a body collided with her own, sending her off course and nearly knocking over another table. A few of the shrunken heads by the door started cackling as she righted herself, looking around to see who she'd run into.

Except… there was no one around to properly apologize to, and she looked to the ground, seeing icy footprints leading right to her own, coming from the door.

"Oi? You got a problem, girl?" A half drunkard garbled at her, eliciting half smile as she made way to get the 4 Butterbeers, barely being able to carry them with her wrapped wrist. They glasses sloshed over the edges as she collapsed back in her chair, smiling at the two other girls.

"What took you so long? I saw you standing there looking lost." Jean took a big glug as Eliza retold what'd happened. "Are you sure you it was another person? You might've just hit your hip on the table."

"No, it felt like a person, I know it did." They didn't really believe her so she let it go, drinking her sweet concoction, enjoying a bit of mindless chatter. It was nice to be in a setting outside of school and classroom, just enjoying a pint with her mates.

Jean took a sip and grinned, "Have you applied for being a prefect next year? I remember you mentioned it last year."

"To be honest, I forgot completely," Eliza admitted, taking a sip of the surgery concoction, "I guess it's not to late to try. I'm guessing it would look great if I was a 7th year prefect when I apply for the Ministry at the end of next year."

Jean sputtered, "The Ministry? They're positively vile in their ways; my dad talks about the way the Ministry views Muggles and Muggleborns, calls them abominations. And I'm not trying to hurt your feelings or anything, but what makes you think they'd even take you? You know…" She made an obvious point to her forearm and Eliza went red with shame.

"I'd like to think that they'd view me as an individual and not an extension of my parents."

"I think we'd all like to think that, but that doesn't make it true." Jean clarified and reached forward, patting her friend's bare forearm.

Daisy saw the tension in Eliza's shoulders and tried to change the subject, "Some 4th year started asking McGonagall about Black sightings, like she'd actually tell him, and then she assigned this—Oh hey, you're back—oh, what?"

"We need to go. Now." Desmond was out of breath and had a look crossed between amazement and shock, which prompted the girls to shrug back on their jackets and flee the Three Broomsticks. A few suspicious eyes stared at their backs, but most returned back to their drinks.

The group of four walked away from the hustle and bustle of Hogsmeade, finding a stoop near the tall trees of the Forbidden Forest to rest and also Desmond to catch his breath. Jean crossed her arms as best she could, staring at the Hufflepuff boy with an expectant eye, "Well? What happened?"

"I stood on a stool near the back and put the ear to the ceiling to hear what Slughorn was talking about, and girls, you're not ready for this." Desmond grinned at the three girls eager but slightly annoyed faces.

"C'mon, then, tell us!"

Desmond gave a bright smile, "Sirius Black is Harry Potter's Godfather."

"Seriously?" Jean threw her hands in the air, "Why does everything happen to Harry Potter?"

"Wait, wait, do you know what this means?" Eliza let a ghastly look cross over her face, "He could be coming to kill Harry, that's why the was spotted in Hogsmeade a while back. Who knows how long they've know… who else was in there?"

"I think I heard McGonagall, didn't really recognize the rest of them," his brows furrowed, "Do you think Potter knows about Black?"

"I doubt it. There's no way they'd tell a third year a mass murderer is on his way to kill him while he sleeps." Daisy grumbled before kicking the snow by her feet, jumping as Jean let out a snarl that would rival a ferocious manticore.

"We're supposed to be having fun, and look at us—here talking about Harry Potter!" She rounded on Eliza, "He knocked you off your broom not a week ago—"

Desmond flinched when she rounded on him next, "And you won't even have a drink with us without eavesdropping on a goddamn private conversation between Professors that weren't meant for you bloomin' ears. What's wrong with the lot of you!" Her voice was a scream by the end of her rant, chest puffing in a wild tangent.

The three friends watched Jean storm back away, steam shooting from her ears. Eliza was tempted to go after her friend, but Daisy's hand on her arm stopped her, instead watching with a broken frown.

* * *

It happened on a day like any other, the news the Sirius Black had been spotted in the castle; even if Jean, Eliza and Daisy hadn't really been speaking since Hogsmeade, the news that the Gryffindor Fat Lady portrait had spotted him—well, she'd initially been missing from her painting on account of a few scratch marks—and she'd cried that Black had stood before her, eyes evil and full of rage.

Hogwarts had been in a panic since then; no students were allowed to sleep in their dormitories, and the process of having every student sleep in the Great Hall was quiet undesirable.

The 4 Hufflepuffs were all lined next to each other, and Eliza and Jean lied awake as the sky above them showed starts and misty clouds. Professors were instructed to be ready at the wands with watching the students and looking for one Sirius Black.

"Do you think he's really here?" Jean whispered to Eliza, eyes wide and lips pursed, "And you're lucky this happened or I'd still be mad."

"I don't know," she mumbled back, "I wonder if they'll close the school."

"Probably, they don't want a repeat of last year." Jean sighed, hugging the blanket close to her chest before muttering, "Can I tell you something? Something I promised I wouldn't tell?"

Eliza nodded and cuddled into her own covers, watching her friend with wide eyes and open ears, "That night, when you were at the Hospital Wing…" she continued, "Lupin was there, next to you, talking to you."

This was news to Elizabeth, and it caused warmth to spread in her chest. "What did he say?"

"Not a lot," Jean lied, changing the subject a bit, "Snape was there, too."

"Snape?" came out louder than she'd intended and Dumbledore turned on his heels, looking over the various sleeping students with a harsh eye, eventually returning back to watching one Harry Potter.

The two girls gave it a few moments before whispering once more, "What did Snape say?"

"He doesn't like Lupin, I don't think he trusts him…" she shrugged in the blanket, "It was strange, that's all."

Eliza nodded and thought about what she'd just been told, wishing she could just confront the two Professors and ask what was going on. Almost every interaction with Snape had felt off, and learning that Remus had visited her unconscious beaten body, in the middle of the night, just didn't make sense.

This entire year was just full of absolute nonsense; here she was, craving her Professor and now Sirius Black was in the Castle. It was headache worthy, remembering the worries of classes and friendships—god, she'd barely been keeping the little Bowtruckle living in her dormitory company—and now this.

"Are you in love with Lupin?"

It was a forward and abrupt question that nearly had Eliza choking, confusion running through her mind. Every sensible part of her mind was screaming no, it wasn't true and it couldn't be, shouldn't be.

And yet—

The only answer that felt right was—

" _Yes_ ," Eliza murmured with a wobbling lip, "Is it wrong?"

Jean mused for a moment, seeing her oldest friends glassy eyes, "Does it feel wrong?"

"Quiet."

Snape's voice rang above their heads, the black clothed feet of the Potions Professor nearly touching their crowns. The looked up at him before turning so their backs were touching, waiting for him to walk away with meticulous steps that mimicked the rumble of the clouds above.

Both girls knew Eliza's answer, and fell into a dreamless sleep.

* * *

Friday came all to soon, and Eliza stood outside of the Defense Against the Dark Arts Classroom, fingering her coat and looking back and forth down the empty corridor. The levels of anxiety and paranoia had been raised up higher than ever before since Hogsmeade; a vow taken between the group to not reveal what they knew. Eavesdropping on Slughorn was grounds for expulsion—at least, according to Eliza it was—so as far as they were concerned, nothing had gone awry in The Three Broomsticks.

And now, here she stood, fist ready to knock on the door of the Professor she had missed dearly, much more than she should. The rapping of her knuckles echoed through the corridor, and the wait was near painful.

A few moments passed—these beats of silence saw her rocking on her feet and staring at the wood details on the door, almost reaching out to run the tips of her fingers along them—but the door swung open to show a smiling Remus, eyes bright and smile wide.

"I was just beginning to wonder when you'd come around. Please, come in. " The classroom looked much like it had when Snape had taught, the rows of desk much more dreary looking than the Boggart lesson she'd had the chance to come upon.

They trailed upstairs to his office and the door audibly locked, leaving the two of them alone.

The windows were wide open, giving the room a dark hue that chilled Eliza's bones—and her eyes zeroed in on the heavy case resting in the corner. The gold locks reflected her face from across the room, Remus watching her with a smile.

"Let's give it a try," He nodded at her worried brows, "Whenever you're ready."

Except—as her wand trembled in her hand—she wasn't ready. "I don't know what I'm supposed to do."

He nodded and was next to her in an instant, hands resting on her shoulders, "Remember what we said; your happiest memory is the source of its power."

It took a few moments for her to try and find a memory that brought her joy, and once she did, she held onto it tight and pressed it to the forefront of her mind; hearing her friends youthful laughter and childlike smiles. Focusing on a certain memory took strain and concentration, and she warily raised her wand.

" _Expecto Patronum."_

Remus watched as flutters of light sputtered pitifully at the edge of the student's wand, feeling her shoulders sag under his hands with utter defeat. Her wand fell back to her side and she turned with a frown.

"It didn't work." Her deflated tone had Remus glowered, strolling forward and rubbing the tips of his fingers over her covered shoulders, soon enveloping her in his side.

"No one ever gets it on their first time," he explained, "It took me years to master my own, but I never gave up trying, and neither will you. Not if I have any say in it." He patted her arm and nodded to her wand, "Try it again, and think harder this time. Really focus on that memory."

She grunted and raised the wand gripped between her trembling fingers, eyes shutting as the memories played behind her eyes like a film, the strongest one lingering longer than any other she knew.

" _We love you, Elizabeth. You're the starlight in our eyes, and even when we are apart, we will never leave you."_

" _But what if I forget about you? How will I know you'll always be there?"_

 _A manicured hand ran over her cheek, "The ones that love us, never truly leave us."_

The spell fell from her lips like a gasp, her eyes still shut as that hand ran over her cheek one last time. Though her eyes were closed, she physically felt the magic of the Patronus flow through her veins, and Remus gleefully watched the blue shield flow from her wand, pressing her closer to his side as the shield died down.

Her eyes opened and she'd barely muttered, "Did it work?" as Remus enveloped her in a staggering hug, crushing her to his chest while praises went over her head. He held her there for a few minutes, letting the beating of his chest calm down to a more soft tempo.

She pulled back and looked up at him, smiling as he gushed, "Elizabeth, my darling, I'm so proud of you. Conjuring the shield is almost half the battle, and with practice, you'll be able to give your Patronus a definite shape."

A fond smile fell across her face at his words, and it must have been the overzealous delight at conjuring a Patronus, or perhaps just the thrill of receiving praise from Remus, but her balls of her feet lifted off the ground, and her lips slammed against his.


	7. Devestation

The tips of her toes strained as they pressed harshly against the wooden floor, body arching up and slacking against the front of Remus, the feel of his constricting arms closing around her torso and pulling her even more flush. Pressure from his harsh grip had her throat eliciting a high-pitched moan, and Remus pulled back, lips flush with spit. There was a crazed look in his eyes—one that reminded her of a feral wolf staring at its prey—but the harsh dilated pupils reverted back in an instant, an inch of reason falling over his face.

She was still pressed against his front when she whispered "Remus?" and grunted when those once constricting arms threw her away, separating them by more than a few feet. Hurt flew through her veins at the distraught look on his face; those once kissed lips falling into a mask of disdain. Her senses returned and the realization of the line she'd crossed smacked her in the face.

She tried to backtrack, feeling the regret seep into her bones, stepping forward and whispering, "That was out of line, I'm sorry, Remus—"

"Stop… Don't come any closer." The rapid rise and fall of his chest mimicked her beating heart, "I—I'm sorry, really, I shouldn't have done that. Please, forgive me—"

He held up a solemn hand and her mouth audibly shut, seeing that he was refusing to even meet her eyes. Silence permeated the room as Remus took a moment to compose himself and finally met her eyes.

"As of now, there will be no more lessons between us, and I ask that you stop coming to this classroom for the rest of the school year."

A rock sunk into her stomach at his detrimental statement, confusion overtaking her desperate words, "No, no—you can't do that, please don't do this to me, I'm sorry I kissed you, please, Remus."

"And my name is Professor Lupin." He gulped harshly and refused to meet her weeping eyes, "Please, leave."

"No," her words were garbled and mixed with tears, "You can't do this to me, don't act like you don't feel anything for me."

"Do you hear yourself?" he spat, glaring at the teary eyed girl who he knew needed to hear this, even if it was breaking his own heart, "I'm your Professor, Elizabeth, would you have me leave me run away into the sunset with you? Leave behind Hogwarts and my job?"

He scoffed, "I think you've been reading too many muggle novels, Elizabeth."

"I didn't ask you to leave, I just—I thought… "

"You thought wrong." The hard look on his once sweet face broke her entire spirit, "I'm not the man you think I am, and I'll never love you."

A choked sob slipped through her teeth, and she fled from the office in a speed that rivaled a broom, teary sounds echoing through the Professors ears. There was barely a stop in her step as she bumped into a figure that'd been coming down the same hall, not even stopping to apologize as they yelled at her back.

She had no idea where she was going, as long as it was away from the man she'd been willing to give her heart to—and what a complete and utter buffoon she'd been.

He'd only seen her as a pathetic lovesick little girl with a crush that had gone too far, except—if it truly was just a pathetic little crush, then why did it hurt so bad?

Lucky for her, the dormitory was empty and no one saw her tear stricken eyes as she fled to her bed and crawled beneath the covers, cuddling into her fluffy pillow and crying her eyes out, not hearing the anguished noises of pain from the man who'd broken her heart.

* * *

Albus Dumbledore rested the withered palm of his hand against the wrinkled palm of his hand, allowing a moment of silence to overtake his once occupied mind. The ball of tension that had festered in his shoulders made a sudden and unwelcome appearance, the peace now lost to the sound of footsteps echoing through the office.

"Is something troubling you, Severus?" Albus saw it best to question the appearance of the scowling Potions Professor, lifting his head from the worn palm to gaze at his old friend with interest.

"I'm… conflicted, Albus," Severus confided. "I find the sudden resurgence of Black and the return of Lupin to be quiet odd."

"I find nothing odd at all," Albus chuckled, "I think your confliction lies with Professor Lupin and his interest in Ms. Jones. Though If I am wrong, please, enlighten me." Much as he had at a young age, many years ago, Albus could read Severus like an old worn book; pages frayed and a split spine.

And yet, Severus pursed his lips and remained silent, allowing Albus the floor. "It would be selfish of you to assume you have control of the young girls actions, or that of Professor Lupin. Any hold you had was relinquished long ago, and if I recall, it was your choice and yours alone."

"Albus, Lupin is werewolf… you know the danger he poses," Snape challenged with desperation, flinching when Albus countered, "And whose to say you pose any less of a threat than Professor Lupin?"

The Potions Professor glared at the Headmaster with contained rage, spitting "And what would you expect me to do? Just allow whatever childish fascination she's built with him to grow? To allow him to poison her mind?"

"No, I don't expect anything from you," Albus calmly explained, "I'm instead asking you as the Headmaster of this school and your ally, to allow the young love of Miss Jones and Professor Lupin to bloom."

Albus strolled to one of windows lining the wall, gazing down at the grounds bellow, "The mystery behind a werewolf's mate is something that is best not meddled with, or you may mind yourself on the wrong end one's claws."

Frustration was evident of Severus's face, but he held his tongue from calling his oldest ally any unsavory names, and his hands balled into fists, "Does she even know?"

"I'm certain she suspects something, but our Professor Lupin is more stubborn than yourself, Severus. He'll do all he can to deny what he knows to be fate and I do fear for our dear Miss Jones." Albus turned to Severus with a look akin to thought, "Was there anything else you needed, Severus?"

Albus watched the Potions Professor leave with a flurry of his cape, door slamming with a resounding clap. The silence echoed once more through the Headmaster's office, and Dumbledore stalked to the pensive, extracting the memory with a painless twist of his wand, dropping it into the empty vial on the glass shelf.

The Pensive shut with ease as Albus stalked away, hands resting behind his back before taking place in his chair once more, allowing the calm silence to overtake his riddled thoughts.

* * *

Jean stared at her friend—her oldest friend in fact, the girl she prided herself on knowing everything about—and stared at the blank look on her face.

They had all arrived to the last meal of the day in the Great Hall separately; Desmond slumping in after a particularly grueling Potions lesson, Daisy flitting in after a successful Transfiguration with McGonagall, Jean rolling her eyes after another brutal hour with Trelawney, and Eliza…

Well, she hadn't said a word since she'd sat down.

The brown haired curls surrounding the crown of her head looking more frizzy than normal, and a slight baggage under her eyes was concerning, which urged Jean to ask, "How was your day? Anything interesting happen?"

There was barely a flicker in her eyes at the question; the fork Eliza had grabbed lightly shuffling the peas rolling on her plate. Daisy shot a curious look at her friend while Desmond went into a speech about how much of a rat Snape was, but no one was listening.

"Hey, are you alright?" she urged her friend to say anything, "Liza, you're scarin' me a bit. Are you alright?"

Her friend's eyes flicked up and widened—"Wait, where are you going? Elizabeth!" Her voice died as Eliza bolted from the Great Hall, not once looking back at her group of concerned friends.

"What's her problem?" Desmond's inquiry went unnoticed as Jean turned her body and pierced her eyes, seeing the back of Professor Lupin walk to his seat at the Professors table, directly next to Professor Snape.

He didn't look well; the usually kempt hair was more messy than normal, and his clothes bordered on messy. And much like Eliza, he seemed to not take a single bite from the spread before his eyes, instead sitting and staring ahead.

It was easy to put one and one together, and assume that something had gone down between her friend and the newest Professor to join Hogwarts, and by the looks of both of them, it was _bad._

It was too much of a coincidence for all of this to happen just after Eliza had shared her feeling about Lupin, and from what Jean had understood, Lupin at least felt something for her. And if how he was acting currently was anything to go by, then she was right.

"You think it was Lupin?" Daisy inquired, her appetite having fled like Eliza.

"I don't know," was her honest answer, "But I wouldn't completely throw it out."

Desmond snorted, "What makes you think Lupin did anything? I'm pretty sure she's not even in his classes." He made a good point, and Jean needed to quickly explain her assumption, except—

"Oh, it's Lupin all right." The snark of Silas was one that they'd all endured before, and the three friends glared as she clarified from her spot over Daisy's shoulder, "I saw her run out of his office earlier today, crying and all that. She looked pretty devastated if you ask me."

"No one was asking you." Jean spat back, watching the Slytherin back off with an eye roll and saunter back to her house table.

"Do you think she's telling the truth?" Daisy questioned, watching Jean warily stand while shooting a glare to Lupin at the Head table. "Where are you going?"

"I'm gonna check on Eliza, you two stay and enjoy the feast. I'll see you later." There was no time to object as the dark haired girl fled the Great Hall, the eyes of one Potions Professor glued to her back.

It was easy enough to find her friend; she was wrapped in a blanket and bundled on one of the couches before the fire, eyes watching the flames with no emotion. Jean quietly shuffled over to her down friend, crowding into her side on the couch, watching the vigorous flames dance.

Eliza was the one to break the tension; "I kissed him."

It didn't surprise Jean one bit, "And then?"

"He sent me away and said to never come back. That he could never love me," her voice started to waver, "He apparently isn't he man I thought he was."

"He clearly isn't," Jean growled and pulled her friend into her side, "I was there when he visited you in the Hospital Wing, and I could tell he cared about you. And I can see that he isn't deserving of a single tear, or an ounce of that big, beautiful heart of yours. You are a beautiful creature, Elizabeth, and he's a fool."

Eliza nodded into her friends side and burrowed closer, watching the orange flames with disinterest, Jean in turn gazing down at her sorrow filled friend. There was an urge to storm up and find the one Professor Lupin and give him a piece of her mind, and possibly a smack or two, which is barely half of what he deserved.

Jean would make sure to keep Lupin away from her friend, hoping he didn't stick around for a second year.


	8. Moving Down

"Aren't you going to ask where I've been?"

Silas glared at the frizzy brunette Hufflepuff, jutting out her bottom lip in an attempt to gain a reaction from her partner. "I was gone for over a week and you've nothing to say? No inquiries?"

"No, not really," she shrugged eyes glued to the pages of her modified Potions book, taking in the newly made instructions that would no doubt produce a potion above Snape's desire.

"Wait, where'd you even get that book," Silas held up Eliza's previous one, "I realized I had it on the train a while back… Did Snape give you that?"

"No, I got it from Filch," she quipped back, eyes never leaving the page, "Of course I got it from Snape. I needed one while you were gone and he gave it to me."

"But I have yours," Silas pushed the old book in her direction, "Give that one back."

"No," her sharp tone was surprising, "I like this one… good binding."

"Good binding?" Silas mocked, "Well excuse me then, I'll just go hand this back to Snape. Then _he_ can take that one from you."

There was no room for argument as Silas rose and stalked across the Potions classroom, standing before Snape with a smarmy smile. She held out the book, "It's Elizabeth's. She won't give me the replacement you gave her, so I thought I'd give you this one back."

Snape's eyes bore into Silas' skull, flickering to the book for a split second and snatching it from her manicured hand.

"Return to your seat."

Silas deflated, looking back at the Eliza's back, "But she—"

Snape rose and loomed over her ever so shrinking form, "Sit. Down."

Eliza looked up as Silas came to a screeching hall in her seat, her mood having turned sour. "What did he say?"

"Piss off."

She held back a rightful snicker and flipped the back in her book, precariously gazing at the smattering of words littering the top of the page. The cursive always lingered on being messy—almost illegible at times—but this one she could make out with a squint.

 _Sectumsempra: For enemies_

* * *

Time had turned to an indescribable mush; slowing down and dragging on the heels of one Elizabeth Jones, the schools year seemingly going at full speed and slower than melting ice all at once. Could this feeling of walking through tar be pointed to the fact that her eyes hadn't been graced by the presence of one Professor Remus Lupin—

"You're thinking about him again, I can see it in your eyes." Jean slapped the shoulder of her friend, "Nope, we promised there was going to be more thinking about that shit headed mongrel from here on out."

The two girls were lounging against the top of the Astronomy Tower, gazing down at the School Grounds below, watching the passing students. Normally, they'd have chosen the sands near the Black Lake, or even just the Dormitory's to spend their free period of the day, but the relentless questions from Daisy had forced the girls to hide far up in the towers of Hogwarts.

"I'm not thinking about him—swear," the frizzy brunette glowered, "I saw Cornelius Fudge earlier, I think they're here about Buckbeak."

"Oh, god," Jean deflated, shaking her head, "I thought Dumbledore would've tried to do something about it, maybe petitioned to just have Buckbeak set free, or something."

"Not with Lucius Malfoy pulling the strings," she spat, "That man is vile, worse than his wretched son."

Jean nodded in agreement, perching her arm on the tower railing and staring out into the abyss of the Black Lake, turning to glance at her friend, "We both know the Malfoy's run the Ministry, and yet you want to work for them in a years time. They'll run you into the ground, tear you apart if you try to step out of their pretty little guidelines."

"What would you have me do instead?"

"Anything!" Jean exclaimed, turning to face her friend, "Come with me and we can study dragons together, or go with Daisy and have her mum teach you spells, hell, stay with Mara and have a Muggle job."

"Why do you care so much about me trying to work for the Ministry?"

"Because they're going to let my dad go," Jean spat, glassy eyes refusing to meet her friends eyes, "He's been there since I was a child and now Lucius Malfoy is saying they have too many Aurors—just one too many."

"I—I'm sorry, Jean." She rubbed her friends back and compromised, "Fine, I wont apply for the Ministry, but I'll have to do something that isn't following after Mara."

"That's all I'm asking for."

The two friends watched the sun rain down on the shimmering waters, letting the silence encompass them.

"Can we go see Hagrid?" Eliza offered, "If they really are here for Buckbeak, then he'll need some comfort before it happens."

"Sure, I think Astronomy's happening soon and the 1st years like to raid here anyway." They cautiously walked down the winding staircase and skidded by the oncoming students, bumping shoulders with a few as they made it back to the Hogwarts Corridors.

They walked in step to the nearest staircase, skirting down the ever-changing staircase and changing course at nearly every turn. The arch that led to the hill down the Hagrid's house was near, but Eliza's footsteps faltered outside of the door she hadn't been back to in a fairly long while.

Jean skidded to a halt and backtracked with a head shake, "No, nope, get away from there, nope, we're going this way and no stops in-between," she grabbed and pulled her friend away, "C'mon."

Eliza allowed herself to be pulled away from the door, barely listening as Jean proclaimed, "Besides, he's no good for you anyway."

* * *

 _We'll die without her_

Remus nearly crushed his wand, wishing Moony was just as silent as he normally was the rest of the wretched month. But with the Full Moon just hours away—the itch under his skin became nearly unbearable, and the urge to consume something raw and bloody was horribly painful.

It was a curse that Wolfsbane required hours of preparation that even someone as skilled as Severus could not bypass, so the pain would have to be endured.

 _If she were here, she'd stop the pain_

"We don't know that," Remus muttered to himself, glad that no one was in his quarters to hear him speaking to himself. "She can't know, not like this, not after what we've done."

 _Then when?_

Short nails dug into his amber roots, tugging and wishing the wolf inside would quiet down and let him live in peace. Anger burned at his core, and his hands started to shake with uncontained anger. His arm lashed out, all of his books and quills scurrying across the dark floor, not even pausing as he overturned the desk.

The once smooth walls now donned claw marks that dug deep into the stonewalls; curtains were torn to shreds and spots of blood marking the ground. He lie slumped against the wall, hair mussed and out of breathe, tears lingering in the corner of his eyes.

By Merlin, he craved Elizabeth; everything from her summer smooth scent to the thick curls of her hair, wishing she were here to see the monster he truly was; the beast that Werewolves were painted as. Then there would be no guilt in his heart when she turned this sad husk of a man away, finding love in the arms of someone who wasn't a monster.

 _Give her a chance_

And what, give the chance that the reality of the lies he'd spat— _I'm not the man you think I am, and I could never love you—_ would then again be thrown at him?

He'd rather die.

 _We will, without her_

Remus allowed his head to slump back against the stonewall, defeat flooding his veins as one hand lifted and skimmed his chapped lips.

The feel of her soft lips against his had been like no other—the smoothness of her skin and the wetness of her flesh had nearly brought forth Moony, the wolf in him wanting to taste even more of her—there was no doubt her plump smooth thighs would feel like heaven beneath his pointed claws, that the smell of her inevitable wetness would release something carnal in him—

"She's just a girl, Moony."

 _But she's ours_

A breeze from the open window nudged the brown parchment poking against his bare upturned foot, his arm stretching to pull it close. A pitiful smile crossed his face as he opened the Marauders Map and did the same thing he did every day.

Her name was floating next to her friend Jeanine and Hagrid, no doubt comforting the giant in his time of need.

 _She could be comforting us._

"You're not helping, you know." Remus quipped back at the voice in his head.

The wretched name of Peter Pettigrew hovered near Harry Potter and Ron Weasley, evoking a snarl from the werewolf, but tampered down the simmering rage. The time would come for revenge to be had, but he had to be patient—

A knock at the door had him rising with ease, not even bothering to fix his no doubt muddled appearance before striding to greet whoever had to come to see him.

Severus Snape's snarl greeted him; "Lupin. You're looking… interesting."

He ran a hand through his amber cut, "Can I help you, Severus?"

Severus pursed his lips with a glare, "I seem to have fallen behind on brewing your Wolfsbane. It will be ready before the moon rises, so please, be patient."

There was no farewell as the Potions master left in a flurry of his cape, the echo of Remus slamming the door echoing in the hallway.

* * *

Hagrid's wails rang through the small hut as Eliza tried to pat his massive back in comfort, Jean nearby with a drooling Fang in her lap. He'd already been sobbing when they'd arrived, and now were doing their best to comfort him.

"I wish there was something we could do, Hagrid, really." Eliza's words of comfort didn't do much to calm the half giants sobs, and she looked to Jean for any ounce of help. All three turned as the door opened and Hermione Granger trailed in with Ron Weasley and Harry Potter. Hagrid started to dry his tears as the three 3rd years found any place to sit, and Eliza smiled as Ron perched next to her.

"We'll stay here with you, Hagrid. And best believe I'll be giving Dumbledore a talk the next time I see him." Jean exclaimed with a stony face.

"You'll do no such thing," He wagged his finger at the students, "I don't need the lot of you seeing anything like this. You can have a few more moments but then you need to get gone. But first—"

Hagrid made his way to the table in the middle of the hut and opened a small tin can, picking out some squiring little creature.

"Scabbers!"

Jean and Eliza looked at each other over Ron's shoulder and shrugged, watching as he cuddled a squirming rat. Eliza moved away, not having a fondness for rodents. Hermione and Ron squabbled back and forth about something that neither 6th year really cared for, getting ready to take their leave. A jar exploding elicited a squeak from Eliza, shooting up to take in the dust now covering the remaining shards. A small curved rock lie in the dust, and she picked it up with confusion. Who'd thrown a rock?

"—Ow!" something small hit the back of her head and she rounded on the room, seeing all of them looking sheepish and innocent, the open window showing right into the Forbidden Forest, something out there having thrown a rock at her head.

"Hagrid." Hermione uttered, the room turning to look through opposite window to see Fudge, Dumbledore and the Executioner.

"All right, out the back, now. Don't be seen." Hagrid ushered the 3 3rd years and 2 6th years out the back door, each of them hunkering down and slinking across the pumpkin hoard, hiding behind a few obtuse pumpkins lining the edge of the Forbidden Forest.

The three younger students were watching the two men speak with Hagrid, but Eliza and Jean glared at the Executioner, sneering as he sharpened his axe in front of a resting Buckbeak.

"You think we can take him?" Jean whispered, snickering when Eliza made a so-so motion. A sharp crack echoed behind them, and Eliza nearly pulled her wand, holding the others back as she precariously stepped forward, eyes searching for whoever had thrown the rock at the back of her head. She wouldn't put it past Malfoy.

A light tickling itched her nose, and a delicate strand of brown hair rested before her eyes, the base being caught in the rough of a tree branch.

"Psst!" Jean loudly whispered, "We gotta go, c'mon."

Eliza wanted to go forward, but turned back and followed the other students up the Hill and away from Hagrid's hut, huffing in deep breathes as the three men stood before the Hippogriff. The third years turned away from the act of carnage, and Eliza flinched into her friends shoulder as the blade came down hard on Buckbeak's neck, ending the Hippogriff's life.

It broke the 6th years heart, to watch such a beautiful creature die for no actual reason other than the pride of Draco and Lucius Malfoy, and a brutal anger flooded her veins, the urge to smack Cornelius Fudge flooding coursing her mind. A Malfoy had corrupted the Minister; Jean was right, and she'd never work for the wretched Minister as long as he lived.

Ron's shriek for his rat had the two sixth years turning, watching the red head bolt in pursuit of the rodent that was better off in a cats belly.

"I think that's our cue to leave," Jean commented, starting to tug Eliza past a grass bound Ron Weasley and beyond the Whomping Willow, "Try and stay out of trouble, you hear?"

Her words were thrown behind her back and Eliza made to catch up to her friend, turning one last time to wave at Hermione Granger—there was something sincere about the little know-it-all—but what stood just behind Hermione and Harry was ground for the yelp that escaped her throat.

"Harry! Hermione! Run!" Ron screamed, "It's the Grim!"

 _The Grim?_

Eliza voiced her confusion, "the hell is the Grim?" but the look on Jean's face concerned her a whole lot, and the other girl murmured, "the omen of death."

The black wolf—or, 'the Grim'—barked and jumped over the two 3rd years, bolting for Ron Weasley and biting into the meat of his ankle, hurriedly dragging him under the Whomping Willow and out of sight, his cries echoing in the air.

"What the hell was that? What the _fuck_ did we just see?" Eliza was beyond confused—befuddled even—, and finally found the sense to move her legs and stop Hermione and Harry from entering the Whomping Willow.

"We don't know what's down there," Jean reasoned, stepping behind her friend in agreement, "It could be Sirius Black for all we know."

"I hope it is, then I can kill him." The venom in Harry's words was a shock to Eliza's core, "No one will be killing anyone, especially you."

"He's the reason my parents are dead. I have the only right." The timing of the shadows on the ground and the widening of Harry's eyes were enough to have them all dropping to the ground as the Whomping Willow grew agitated as this many people disturbed its peaceful slumber.

Eliza and Jean watched as the two 3rd years stupidly stood up and tried to spell the tree, of course being swept up in its many branches and thrown about. Eliza looked towards the hole at the base, yelling over Hermione's screams, "I'm going to get Ron, you help these two."

Jean gripped her before she could bolt, "Are you sure? I can go with you, we can do it together."

"I'll be alright," she looked into her friend's worried eyes, "Try and get help, yeah?"

There was no time to respond as Eliza sprinted to the base of the Whomping Willow, sliding down into the mysteries below.


	9. Revelations

_Hey everyone!_

 _You know, it doesn't hurt to comment, seeing as I do check my story stats and people are reading this. It really sucks as an author when no one ever comments, this being the reason I mainly post of Ao3, as the community and readers are more active to tell you what they like and don't like. But this place... has been always been very silent, and I've used this website for a long time. Comments that say 'please update' make an author feel like a writing machine, not an actual person._

 _You can ignore this and go about your time if you must, but if you can, remember, authors are people too, and I sure as fuck comment._

- _Spencer_

* * *

She landed with a huff, leaves coating her clothes and spider webs covering her curls. The ruckus from above was decently audible, and she stood with a courageous face, wand at the ready and eyes searching every corner.

A light coat of blood trailed the ground, leading down, down, down the path. The unnerving chill rattled her bones, and the fear that she'd tried to push away reared its ugly head; maybe bringing Jean would've been a good idea.

It was an open tunnel; there was a great deal of height above her head, and even harshly carved stairs that led further down. This was a man made tunnel, but it was unknown to essentially everyone…

Why was it here? Where did it go?

Unanswerable questions ran through her had as she started to hear the screams of Ron Weasley much closer this time, picking up her speed into a jog, making sure to not trip over any loose roots that had grown over time. A few spiders hid in the dark corners, and she made sure to keep clear of them.

This chance of quiet gave her time to think and reflect, wondering why all the bad things happened to her; last year was bad enough with the nonsense of the Basilisk—and poor Daisy had been one of the few who'd been petrified—and now all of this.

And yet, her heart still yearned for Remus Lupin, wishing he were here to hold her close and fight the monsters for her. Even if he could never love her, was it wrong of her to still want him?

Maybe, she guessed.

Her brave face fell as she reached a tall set of broken down wooden steps, leading up to an empty doorway. Ron's whimpers seemed to emitting from there—and she gulped, wondering if turning back made her a coward.

The step under her trainer creaked so loud it rumbled her ears, and she waited for the dog to appear and tear her to bits. After a few moments, where nothing happened, she proceeded up the stairs, making it to doorframe that had seen better days.

The tip of her wand slowly pushed it open, precariously peeking in and immediately spotting a crying Ron, lowering her wand and sprinting to his side, "Are you alright?"

There was light blood staining his leg, and she knew getting him out by herself wouldn't work. Options seemed too limited to do much but wait for any sensible professor to come help.

Ron wouldn't meet her eyes, staring over her shoulder, "It's him! He's an Animagus!"

She turned and watched as the door was pushed closed, the gruesome form of Sirius Black staring straight at her. He looked much like the stories said—a feral Azkaban escapee with insanity in his eyes. The clothes on his back were rugged and dirty, covered in grime and who knows what else. The front of his chest was exposed, showing off tattoos that had seen better days.

"Don't come any closer," she raised her wand and kept a surprisingly straight face, "I'll hex you, I will."

"I have no doubt of that Elizabeth, I would expect nothing less of Ismelda's daughter."

Her wand trembled, "You knew my mother?"

He grinned, "We were friends."

The two squared off from opposite sides of the decrepit room, only breaking in their stare to watch Harry and Hermione run in, no Jean in sight. She hoped her friend had run off to find a Professor.

Hermione, the ever-brave one, took a stance in front of Harry, "If you want to kill Harry, you'll have to kill us too."

"No, only one will die tonight." Sirius grinned, full expecting Harry to launch with a yell, shocking the three other students. Harry pulled forward his wand and stuck it under the Azkaban escapee's chin, prompting the older man to snicker, "Are you going to kill me, Harry?"

She'd taken two steps towards the fallen duo, prepared to tug Harry off the crazed old man—wand now stuffed in her pants pocket and at the ready for a binding spell to restrain the madman.

" _Expelliarmus!"_

That voice strung a long lonely chord in her chest, whirring around to stare at the out of breath Remus Lupin, wand drawn and pointed at Harry, the young boys wand having been thrown across the room.

Her eyes never left the taut form of Remus, watching as he ushered for Harry to free Black, leaving the two men staring head one. Eliza pulled Harry behind, covering him and feeling her own breath grow harsh. Would he kill Black? In front of four students whose young eyes weren't accustomed to such violence?

"Well, well, Sirius," Remus began, "Looking rather ragged aren't we. Finally, the flesh reflects the madness within."

Sirius snickered, mad eyes watching the Professor, "Well you'd know all about the madness within, wouldn't you, Remus?"

His words forced a sense of unease on Eliza, her eyes shooting back and forth between the two men, watching in bewilderment as Remus lowered his wand and—

 _Helped up Back?_

It was gut wrenching—heart crushing—to watch the two men embrace as if old friends, Sirius brokenly sobbing, "I found him, he's here," while Remus morosely murmured, "I know."

"No!" Hermione screamed, pointing her finger at Remus, "I trusted you, and all this time, you've been his friend."

"Remus, how could you?" Eliza's voice cracked and broke as his eyes turned to her, regret seeping into his features.

"He's a werewolf," Hermione continued, sneering, "It's why he's been missing classes."

 _A what?_

"How long have you know?" Remus turned his eyes away from his mate to stare down the 3rd year. "Since Professor Snape set the essay."

That day—Snape had set that essay for a reason, and Hermione's voice rang through her head.

 _An Animagus is a wizard who chooses to turn into an animal; a werewolf has no choice… A werewolf on a full moon would kill his best friend, they respond to the call of their own kind_

"You're a werewolf?" Her quiet voice broke the silence, and Remus made the motion to step forward, but help himself back at the last second. "I was going to tell you sooner or later but I needed to know—"

"Know what? That I wouldn't run to Dumbledore about the werewolf sniffing up my skirt?" her voice grew louder and higher, tears threatening to fall, "I trusted you."

"Elizabeth, please." This time, he did try to step towards her, but Sirius ranted, "Enough of this petty lovers quarrel, let's kill him and be done."

"One moment, Sirius, she _has_ to understand."

"No!" Sirius screamed, backing away from his old friend, rages overtaking his veins, "I did my waiting! 12 years of it! In Azkaban!"

Remus gave one last look to his teary-eyed Elizabeth, backing down and calmly relenting, "Fine, kill him. But at least tell Harry why."

"I know why! You're the reason my parents are dead." Harry confidently spat at Sirius, and Remus cut in, "No, Harry, it wasn't him. Someone did betray your parents, someone who until quiet recently I thought to be dead."

"Who was it then?"

Sirius proclaimed, "Peter Pettigrew!"

A spark of knowing nagged at the back of Eliza's mind, just sure that she'd heard that name before. It must have been mentioned in the articles about Black, but she couldn't place exactly what she'd read.

"And he's in this room, right now! Come out, Peter!" Sirius appeared truly mad—perhaps the years n Azkaban finally getting to him—"come out, come out and play!"

" _Expelliarmus!"_

 _Oh Merlin._

Snape stalked into the room like a predator, blasting Remus's wand and sneering at the two men.

"Vengeance is sweet." Severus droned, a flicker of delight in his eyes, "I was so hoping I'd be the one to catch you."

Sirius gulped, trying to reason with the Potions Professor, "Severus…"

"I told Dumbledore you were up to something with Black and—" His insult halted, wide eyes watching Elizabeth Jones with shock, "And to think, he trusted you with Miss Jones. How I pity him."

"Severus, please, just listen to us," Remus tried to reason as well, but simply received a wand to the face. And much in a Sirius Black fashion, "Brilliant, Snape. You've managed to stick you're overly large nose into the exact wrong conclusion, Now, if you'll excuse us, Remus and I have some business to attend to—"

Snape sneered and stuck his wand deeper into Black's neck, practically salivating, "Give me a reason. I beg you."

"Severus, please, don't be a fool." Remus tried to step towards the chaotic pair, but Sirius waved him off. Elizabeth watched Black and Snape bicker back and forth, feeling Remus step closer to her than he had in weeks.

Warmth spread as he neared, and she made to meet his eyes, watching those green orbs flicker with uncertainty. She wanted to hate the lies that had come forth—betrayal, and, hell, a werewolf? —But she found herself unable to quiver away from his presence.

"—A Dementor's Kiss. One can only imagine what that must be like. It's said to be nearly unbearable to witness, but I'll do my best." Snape sneered, veering his wand back to Lupin, eyes watching the interaction between student and Professor before it could happen.

"Elizabeth," Snape motioned to the door, never once breaking eyes from Remus, "After you."

All the occupants of the room turned to stare at the 6th year girl, her lips trembling as she tried to find reason not to leave, "P-professor Snape, don't you think we should hear them out? They've done nothing wrong yet."

Snape harked a laugh, gesturing to Sirius, "He's a murderer, you stupid girl. I'm within my right to cast judgment upon the both of them… especially the mongrel standing next to you."

A low growl started in Remus's chest, taking a wide stance in front of Elizabeth, "She's not leaving with you, not now, not ever."

" _Expelliarmus_!"

A burst of magic hit Professor Snape square in the chest, a spell so strong it threw him against a duty old bed on the other side of the room, the entire apparatus closing in on itself.

"Harry!" Hermione yelped, "You attacked a teacher!"

But Harry didn't care and turned his wand to Sirius, "Tell me about Peter Pettigrew."

"He was in school with is, we thought he was our friend." Remus stepped forward and reasoned with the young man, "I thought he was dead until you mentioned seeing him on the map."

Eliza couldn't help but asking, "What map?" and flinched as all eyes turned to her.

"Sirius, Peter, James Potter and I created a map when we were in school, it shows everyone in Hogwarts." She nodded and let Remus continue; "Peter Pettigrew has been thought to be dead for twelve years, but he's not, Harry."

"Well, where is he then?" Harry demanded, "Prove it."

Sirius stalked forward and let his arm show exactly who he knew to be Peter Pettigrew, "He's right there!"

 _Oh, he really has gone mad._

"Me?" Ron yelped, clutching Scabbers, "He's mental!"

Sirius groaned, "No, not you. Your rat!" Ron tried to reason with the madman, "Scabbers has been in my family for—"

"12 years? A surprising life span for a common garden rat; And do you even know how he lost that toe?"

Harry started to put the pieces together, "And all they could of Pettigrew was…" Sirius looked gleeful, nearly clapping his hands in joy, as Scabbers grew more frantic. Eliza, seeing as this entire situation was making her head spin, tried to move and calm Ron, but Remus stopped her with an arm of her shoulder, shaking his head.

"Give it to him, Ron." Harry demanded of his friend, not breaking a sweat as Sirius snatched the rat from his pale hands, holding him up by his tail, all while Ron is yelling, "Leave him alone."

Eliza watches with bated breath as the two grown wizards try and spell a fat but speedy rat, watching the rodent run between the piano keys and over the floorboards. It was making its way through a hole in the wall when Remus hit the—

"Remus? Sirius?... My old friends!"

It was a man… who'd previously been a rat. He was much to large for that much too tight suit, and the rat like qualities—two front large teeth and a nose that sniffed like a rodent looking for misplaced cheese—and eyes that were all too shocked to be at human height with two angry wizards. Eliza backed herself into the corner near Ron, not wanting to be anywhere near this man.

She watched Peter turn to Harry, sniffing the air, "Harry, you look so much like your father, like James! We were the best of friends."

Sirius snarled, "Don't you speak about James to him!"

"You sold James and Lilly to Voldemort, didn't you!?"

Peter began to wail like an infant, "I—I didn't—mean to! The Dark Lord—you have no idea the weapons he possess." He turns to Sirius, "Ask yourself, Sirius? What would you have done? What would you have done?"

Sirius painfully yelled, "I would've died! I would've died rather than betray my friends!"

Peter could see he was losing this fight, and tried to scope out an escape, but saw something better. He scrambled to Elizabeth's side, falling to his knees and tugging on her skirt, "Elizabeth! Look how you've grown; you look so much like your father. He'd would've protected me—the Dark Lord would listen to you—"

A scream leaves her throat as the rat man is forcefully tossed away from her, Remus shielding her from the quivering mess of a human, "Touch her again and I'll kill you."

"No."

Sirius, Peter and Remus—as well as Eliza peeking over the tall werewolf's shoulder—watched Harry stare down at Peter. "We'll take him to the Castle. Let Dumbledore know what's happened. The Dementor's can have him then."

Peter whimpered and allowed Sirius to bind his body, pushing him to lean against the door.

"A little help here?" Ron squeaked out, gesturing to his leg.

* * *

 _The Dark Lord would listen to you_

Those words played through her head in an agonizing mantra, not understanding what they meant. Voldemort was dead, and even then, why would he listen to _her?_ As far as she was concerned, or as far as any memory went back, Voldemort had never been a part of her life—her parents making sure of that. And yet, the desperate words of a rat had her questioning everything.

"Are you alright?"

Merlin, the werewolf her heart had chosen truly was a beautiful one. He'd moved away from Sirius and Harry—Hermione had her wand against Peter's neck, eyes ready for any attempt at escape.

"Yeah, I'm alright… You?"

He nodded, scuffing his shoe on the ground as he moved closer; "I wanted to talk to you, about everything." She scoffed, "I don't think we've all the time in the world for that."

"Elizabeth, please, listen—"

She rounded and stuck her finger in his chest, "No, _you_ listen," he nodded with wide eyes, "I am not a toy, Remus, and I will not allow you to tug me around like this—first you act like you actually had the smallest chance of caring about me and then you tell me to never speak to you again. I won't do this, not with you."

"You have to make a choice, and I'll live with whatever choice that is." The words settle in the ground around them, Remus watching her with an unknown emotion in his eyes as his hand comes up to cup her cheek, thumb rubbing the smooth skin there.

"You're all I've ever wanted, Elizabeth."

"Then why did you push me away?" she sniffled, hands longing to bring him close, "I don't—I don't know what's happening, what this is between us but I want to understand—I really do, but you have to talk to me, no more sending me away and no more hiding."

She could see confliction in his eyes and sighed, "Is it because you're a werewolf?" A nod and a defeated sigh were enough to have her pulling him close, whispering, "I don't care about you being a werewolf, Remus…I just care about you. Don't you know that by know, you silly dog?"

"It wouldn't be the first time that my lycanthropy has gotten in the way of things, and I'd only hoped you'd be different."

"And I am," she gushed, this time cupping his cheek and allowing a thumb to trace his scars, "To think, all this time wasted away…"

It was just like it had happened before; the soles of her feet lifting off the ground and falling against his chest, lips seeking his in a desperate attempt to reconcile the time that was lost. The arm wound around her waist grew tighter, nails growing sharper and longer and desperate growls echoing in his chest.

Hermione's desperate cry of her name stopped the kiss before their lips could meet, and Elizabeth turned to watch as the girl pointed to the grotesquely beautiful pale moon.


	10. Howl to the Moon

_Thank you to the people who've been commenting! I really appreciate it!_

 _The next chapter will be the last for Prisoner of Azkaban, then we're off to Goblet of Fire!_

* * *

The beauty of the full moon was one that could be described as horrific yet enchanting, the pale rays shining on all who gazed at her beauty. But tonight, this beauty was quickly turning monstrous.

Deep breaths pushed their way out of Remus's chest, Elizabeth's hands trying to find a way to help the man who seemed to be loosing control of his limbs, teeth starting to shake as his arms scrambled to push her away.

"Remus!" Sirius ran over, pushing her out of the werewolves' arms and gripping the front of his romper tightly, demanding an answer, "Have you taken your potion?"

Pained groans started to emit from the shaking man, sounds that had Eliza feeling pain in her heart, wanting to help but not daring to pull Sirius away, assuming the man could break his old friend from this stupor. While there wasn't much she knew about werewolves, the fact that there was a full moon mixed with Remus's behavior, a cold feeling in her gut said that this wasn't going to end well.

"You know the man you truly are, Remus," Sirius begged. "This heart is where you truly live, this heart. Remus!" The man in question was slowly losing any sense of humanity; his cheeks turning gaunt as his features contorted in unimaginable pain.

Sirius grew desperate, trying anything to reason the wolf back to its dormant state—"You'll kill her, Remus!"—But it was a foolish effort to try and stop the transition from man to beast, and Sirius was catapulted away with a lengthy growl from Remus.

Harry, Hermione, Ron and Eliza huddled close as the man who had once been Remus Lupin took his true form; his human nose had become an elongated snout, the once sweet eyes now beady black orbs of hunger and desperation, the once beautiful physique of a broken man now an emaciated dog, hunched over, whimpering.

Tendrils of fear trickled as she took one precarious step in the grass closer to the hunched down werewolf, ignoring Hermione's tugging at her sweater. One step closer and his ear slightly perked up, but he didn't move from his balled up form.

"Remus…?" she shakily whispered, falling back on the dirt as he stood tall on his skinny wolf legs, head thrown back as his howl to Mother Moon echoed across the Hogwarts grounds. It was a chilling sound to hear, and only when he stopped did his eyes finally zero in on the girl still on the ground, eyes filled with something to close to fear.

Eliza scrambled to stand as the werewolf started forward, roaring angrily at the four spectators. There was no understanding in the beast's eyes, and Eliza crowded the three younger students behind her, wanting to smack Ron for whimpering out "Nice doggy."

The snarl of Snape surprised the students, the Potions Professor rounding out of the entrance to the Whomping Willow, "There you are, _Potter!"_

Another roar from Remus stopped Snape in his tracks, the mans agenda of scolding Harry, rapidly changed to putting himself in front of the student, covering them with his cloak. Eliza shakily gripped the back of his dark cloth, blinking as he quickly turned to shoot her a worried glance.

The attempt at protection fell flat as one large werewolf paw slashed at Snape's front, knocking him over along with Eliza and Hermione. The two girls tried to stand and help the Potions Professor up, glancing up to see a black dog—Sirius must have transformed when he'd fallen—attack Remus, the two tussling down a bed of flowers that led down to the Forbidden Forest.

"Come back here, _Potter_!" Harry fled after the two dogs, ignoring Snape's demand in favor of trying to save his newly found godfather. Eliza's hand just skimmed the retreating back of Hermione, finding the strength in her own legs to try to go after the young girl. Except—

A strong hand pulled Eliza back, and she wrenched around to face a fuming Snape, "We have to help them! We can't just stay here!"

"You will do no such thing," Snape righted himself and adjusted his misaligned robes, "Without the Wolfsbane, Lupin is uncontrollable."

"W-Why hasn't he taken Wolfsbane then? Does it prevent him from turning like this every full moon?"

"The Wolfsbane retains his human form and I've been brewing it for him since he arrived, but tonight he's neglected to ingest it, meaning his romp in the woods is going to get someone killed."

She grew exasperated; wanting to shake the man, "Then do something! Sirius Black is innocent and the longer we stay here the sooner we'll be finding body parts in the Forest." Snape remained silent. "Are you even listening to me?"

"We must return to the Castle and inform the Headmaster of Black's location, as well as Lupin's predicament."

Rage flooded her veins as another howl echoed through the dark school grounds, and she prepared herself to bolt to the forest, "I have to help them, Professor—"

" _Stupefy."_

Ron Weasley screamed as Professor Snape's spell hit the 6th year straight in the chest, her body crumbling into the soft grass.

* * *

Arguing was the first thing that registered in her sleep-addled mind; these were voices she knew, but wished they'd quiet down. Her limbs felt weak and worm, her toes numb with a light stinging, hands twitching at her bedside as a long yawn exited her mouth.

"She's awake!" The voice was close enough to Jean's, and her eyes started to blearily peel open, looking at the blurry figure at her bedside. "Help her up. C'mon, love, open those lovely eyes."

Jean's sweet coo's had her seeing clearly; catching the back of Dumbledore as he exited the Hospital Wing, Ron in a cast on the next bed over with Harry and Hermione at his side.

"Wha' happened?" Her words were slightly muddled and Jean patted her on the arm, "Last night got the best of you."

"How did I…"

"Snape carried you back here after Harry and I went after Sirius. He said you passed out after Remus transformed."

"Snape hexed you!" Ron practically yelled, scowling when Hermione hit his cast, "I was sitting right there when you said you were going to help Harry and Hermione when he did it. Told me not to move while he brought you here. I—I didn't say anything to Dumbledore, but I mean, Snape is scary!"

The memory of the night before hit her in the chest; Snape _had_ spelled her unconscious, to stop her from going after Remus. "I remember; Snape did do it."

"That's not what he told Dumbledore just now," Hermione solemnly nodded, "As far as anyone is concerned, Snape saved you last night… and Sirius Black is guilty."

Eliza gulped, "B-But Peter Pettigrew?"

Harry sadly shrugged, "He got away as Professor Lupin was turning. Who knows where he is."

She slumped against the bed, deflated and defeated. "So even after all that, nothing mattered?"

"Not exactly," Hermione proceeded to extract an obscurely long necklace from inside her shirt, "I think this will give us a second chance."

Eliza had a bookworm phase in her second year—though not as intense as Hermione's never ending one—and she knew exactly what that necklace did, sitting up and staring at the miraculous 3rd year, "Where in the bloody hell did you get a Time Turner? Those are ancient… and I'm pretty sure illegal in some parts."

"Professor McGonagall gave it to me, it's how I've been getting to classes."

It all made sense now, "That's how you got to Snape's class last the day Remus was out." Hermione had enough sense to look slightly bashful. "No one ever notices, not even the Professors."

"Anyway," Jean but in, "How is that necklace going to help us?"

"Us?" Eliza shook her head, "What makes you think you're coming with?"

Jean smirked with teeth; "Someone has to be there to keep you out of trouble. And besides, it's not like I was doing anything else last night. As far as anyone is concerned, I was locked inside Snape's classroom nearly all night."

Hermione nodded and thought aloud, "You know, she makes a good point." To which Jean looked pleasantly surprised, "I do?"

"The most important aspect of using a Time Turner is that you can't be seen in two places at once, so seeing as Jean here was locked away all night, there's no real danger in bringing her," she paused, blowing out a breath of air, "All of us were at Hagrid's—" she patted Ron's cast, "And you can't walk so you'll have to stay behind."

"She's in a bed, too. Why does she get to go?" Rom pointed an accusatory finger at Elizabeth, but Hermione just continued, "Dumbledore said more than one innocent life can be saved."

"When did he say that?"

Jean shrugged, "You were still out," to which Eliza nodded and climbed out of the Hospital Bed, stretching away any aches, and rubbing the sore spot on her chest, presumably where Snape had spelled her. It still confounded her that the Potions Professor had literally rendered her unconscious—just so she wouldn't run after Harry, Hermione, Remus, and Sirius—and had carried her back to the Castle.

It felt like a backwards attempt at protecting her, one that she'd rather not had.

"Alright, everyone hold on," Hermione smiled at a frumpy Ron, "We'll see you soon."

Three turns of the Time Turner was all it took; Eliza and Jean watched as the darkness outside reverted back to day, students in and out—Snape really had carried her back, frail and limp like one of those girls in the fairytale stories she'd used to love—and as soon as it started, it was done. Hermione took back the long necklace and started ahead, "Do we all know where we were at a quarter past three?"

Jean and Eliza simultaneously uttered, "The Astronomy Tower," and Jean continued, "We should be heading down right about now to Hagrid's. What about you two?"

"The Courtyard."

The gang of four students rushed outside—nearly running into Jean and Eliza's prior selves as the strolled passed the Defense Against the Dark Arts Classroom—trying as quickly and quietly as they could to make it near the Whomping Willow. At least—

"Oi!" Jean tugged on Hermione's pink romper, "Willow's that way, right?"

"Remember what Dumbledore said, retrace our steps. We went to Hagrid's first, and then the Willow."

Eliza scratched her head, "When did he say that?"

No one answered and instead turned their attention the watch a scene between Draco Malfoy and Hermione play out—"Nice throw, Mione"—and watch Malfoy run away with a bruised nose and ego. Patience was necessary as the futuristic quartet watched the present trio walk somberly down the hill to Hagrid's hut, stopping to pet Buckbeak one last time.

They easily stalked down in the same fashion, hunkering under Hagrid's window and frowning at the sight of the captive Hippogriff. "I wish we could save him too— _hey,_ _hey_! Hermione!"

The brunette 3rd year was braver than all of them put together, and picked up the chain that connected to the creature's neck.

"Girls bloody insane," Jean remarked, wishing she'd been like her in 3rd year.

Harry, Jean and Eliza expertly snuck over to the tall hoard of pumpkins, peeking over and glancing in through the open window, making sure no one saw Hermione try and lead the Hippogriff to the safety of the Forest. Eliza spotted them first—"There's Dumbledore and Fudge. Hermione, hide!"

"Why?" Jean asked.

"They have to see him first, or they'll think Hagrid let him go… Why aren't we leaving? We should be gone by now."

Eliza's eyes quickly looked for something to get their attention, to warn their past selves of what was coming, and saw the spiral rock from before.

"Allow me," Jean reared back her arm and watched that little rock crack the dusty pot on Hagrid's table, groaning at what was coming next. "Do the honors."

The rock to the head hurt, but it got there past selves out and moving, meaning—

"Back up, back up— _Ow_!" An unruly branch caught one of her frizzy locks, the single strand hanging in the air.

The four hid out behind the trees, hearing their previous selves talk. The past Jean's inquiry—"You think we can take him?"—And current Eliza gulped, hearing the leaves crack under her previous selves trainers, knowing she was staring at the strand of hair.

A beat passed before they were fleeing, giving just enough time—"Hermione! Now! Get him!"—to lead the Hippogriff into the Forbidden Forest with a trail of dead ferret skin.

"I can't believe we pulled that off," Jean yelled into the trees, swinging around the thick trunks with glee, "We weren't seen and we saved the big bird. I think that is a win in my book."

"It isn't over yet," Hermione reminded, "There are still three hours until the Full Moon, and then…"

For now, they wait.

* * *

"This is what we get for leaving our plan in the hands of a third year."

Jean and Eliza were slouched against a tree trunk, gazing up at the Full Moon. Harry and Hermione had run off as soon as Remus had let forth his own howl—and Eliza had nearly run to him in that split second—but now the two of them were stuck here with a giant Hippogriff that kept nudging them for more tender ferret flesh.

"I mean, she's been called the brightest witch of her age." Jean snorted, "And? I've been called a lot of things that aren't true."

"Well," Eliza sat up with crossed arms, "It wasn't like you had any better ideas than she did."

"Hm, I don't know, anything is better than just sitting here on our asses—wait… did you hear _that_?"

Eliza scoffed, returning to slouch, "There's nothing out there, Jean, you're not going to scare me."

"If I wanted you to be scared, you would be," Jean clarified, turning back to the darkness of the Forbidden Forest. "But I swear, something's out there… watching us. What if it's your Wolf man?"

Eliza giggled into the dark, "So, he's _my_ wolf man now?"

"Shut it. Listen…"

And there it was; a soft cracking in the air, coming from no exact direction but more all around. It was like the crunch of a piece of particularly crispy kettle corn, or the fizz of a Butterbeer.

"I hear it too." The two girls pulled out their wands, leaving Buckbeak alone for just a moment to investigate the noise. Eliza took the lead, whispering a soft " _Lumos",_ allowing the tip of her wand to give light to the dark.

There was nothing at first. Until—

A spider the size of a horse came crashing through the bushes, snarling with its wet pincers at the two girls, their terrified shrieks drowned out by the creature's growls. This spider must have run off from Aragog's hoard, and there was no Hagrid to say calming words to the creature. Drool dribbled down its terrifying spiky mouth, four sets of eyes never breaking from its soon to be meal.

"Do something!" Jean screamed, scrambling to yell " _Stupefy!"_ but panicking more when the spider shook off the hit, this time screeching in anger. Eliza tried " _Expelliarmus!"_ but the spider dodged, this time starting a hard run at Jean, trying to snap at her front, possibly attempting to cut off her head.

Fear and panic coiled in Eliza's veins at her friends desperate screams, "Help me! Do something! Anything!"

Every spell ran through her mind like a flip through a deck of cards, stopping and running with the one that played behind her eyes, the word leaping from her throat in a harsh scream, wand aimed the body of the beast.

" _Sectumsempra!"_

Terrible sounds of pain and hurt echoed as the spider fell to its back, long harsh marks appearing on its entire body as the spells effects took hold. It was horrifying to watch as mark after mark appeared on the spider, red coating its black skin. Jean watched with wide eyes as the spider stopped twitching, blood staining the forest floor. The wand in Eliza's hand fell to the dirt, choked gasps falling from her lips as she saw what she'd done.

She hadn't just killed it; she'd torn it apart.

"I'd say thanks but…" Jean could only gulp, "What the hell was that spell?"

And Eliza could only croak an honest, "I don't know."

* * *

They'd done it.

They'd _actually_ done it.

It was still unclear as to how Harry and Hermione had saved the previous Harry and Sirius, but the four students had ridden Buckbeak up to the towers of Hogwarts, blowing open the cell door to free Sirius.

And now, here they were, hidden in the shadows of the Courtyard.

Harry and Sirius were whispering in their own corner, probably making plans for a future meet up or something of the sort, while Eliza and Jean stared up at the moon, listening to the howls echoing in the air.

"You scare me sometimes, Elizabeth." Jean commented, turning to glance at her friend, "And it takes a lot for me to be scared."

"I scare myself sometimes. Tonight…" she sighed, "I don't even have the words to say anything."

"Tell me you'll never use it again." Jean demanded, "Promise me that it'll never leave your mouth again."

"I wouldn't have if I knew it would do that. I'm—I'm not a killer, Jean. I know it wasn't a person but tonight I killed something. Even if it was attacking you, I still… killed it. I could've missed and hit you."

"And you didn't, and you saved me," Jean gave a soft smile and rubbed her friends arm, "There isn't an evil bone in your body, and you're not a murderer. But I need you to swear—"

"I swear on my life. Never again."

"Would you two ladies mind if I took Elizabeth for just a moment?" Sirius bashfully smiled as two sets of eyes turned to him, "I just want a word before I go."

Jean smiled at the former Azkaban escapee now Harry's Godfather, "Alright, then." She held out a hand, "It was great to meet you, Sirius."

They shook hands and Jean stalked away, leaving Sirius and Elizabeth staring up at the Moon.

"You look so much like your mother," he murmured.

"Everybody says that. It just makes me miss her even more." Silence encompassed them, and Eliza turned to face him, "Where do you plan to go? You're not free, not really."

And Sirius smiled, vile teeth on display, "But I am free.. Twelve years in Azkaban was more than enough for me. I can think of a few places for Buckbeak and I."

"That's good to hear."

He watched the girl, wishing he could offer a hug, "Remus loves you, more than you can know. And I know him well enough to see that he needs you."

She wanted to agree, but shook her head, "Then why do I have the feeling that after tonight, everything will change?"

"Sometimes, change is good. And frankly, Moony needs some good in his life." She furrowed a brow with a frown, "Moony?"

"Take care of him, Elizabeth, it's the only way. And please, try and write me if you can."

Sirius Black, former Azkaban Escapee turned free man, lifted himself onto Buckbeak and took off into the sky, his cries of joys echoing in the wind. And down below, in the depths of the Forbidden Forest, a werewolf howled for his mate.


	11. Over, Again

To have a sense of déjà vu was such a muggle sentiment. To find yourself feeling as though you've been here before, that this has already happened.

Elizabeth Jones had experienced enough déjà vu in the past few months to last her a lifetime, never wanting to see a Time Turner, or really any of those three mischievous and trouble seeking third years, ever again. There had been enough magic that even her witchy self was deflated, wishing that her life was back in London and not here, at Hogwarts.

But alas, if wishes were wolves, she'd have a pack.

"Are you going to see him off?" Jean stepped into the Dormitory, trying her hardest to not startle the other girl, "I heard around that he resigned. I've seen a few girls trying to sneak into his classrooms to wish him farewell."

"Good for them, I suppose." Eliza moved away from the window and searched through the bedside drawer, gently setting Leaf on the fluffy comforter, and chucking the cursed Potions Book at her friend. "I'll stop by the DADA classroom after I return that to Snape. I think it's better off in his hands."

"Is this where—" Eliza nodded, petting the little Bowtruckle and watching her friend flip open the marked book, "Wow, look at all this, does any of it work?"

Eliza grimly nodded, "All of it." Jean continued flipping pages, stopping finally, reading aloud, "Sectumsempra, to harm a foe…"

"See?" she shrugged, "Nothing in there about 'eviscerating' your enemy."

Jean shut the book and threw it back on the bed, nodding with a frown, "I can see that. But I'm still glad your returning it, you don't need it anyway and, who knows, maybe Snape didn't even mean to give it to you."

"That's the funny thing…" Eliza pointed out, "When I asked for a new book, he didn't get it from the other books; he got it from his desk."

The perfectly plucked brows on Jean's head rose, "Huh… maybe he meant to then." She continued, "Do you have any idea why he might want you to have that anyway?"

"No idea."

A giggling Daisy fluttered into the Dormitory, instantly spotting her two friends with a bright smile, "Gosh, it feels like I haven't seen you two in ages." She turned to Eliza with a faux grin, "Sorry about Lupin, I heard he got sacked."

"He didn't," Eliza snapped; regret overtaking her features. "I mean—I heard he resigned. Not that he was fired or anything."

"Alright then." Daisy nodded without a care, turning back to Jean, "Are you ready for your O.W.L's? I've been studying in the library non-stop, I feel like I haven't seen the light of days in years."

"Hey, I'm gonna… take care of a few things. See you two later, yeah?"

"Are you sure you don't want me to come with?" Jean kindly offered, "You know, for moral support."

"Moral support?" Daisy confusedly asked, "What're doing that you need moral support?"

There had been a pact made between Jean and Eliza last night; no one could know about Remus's lycanthropy, or really anything that had gone done. It hurt to keep such massive secrets from their friends, but it there was little doubt that Daisy could actually keep a secret, and Desmond had a mouth bigger than Scotland.

"Nothing," Eliza quickly supplied a reason that wouldn't raise any red flags, "Just wanted to see the Headmaster for something. You know, just Muggle worries and all that."

"Well, why don't we all go, then? I haven't been in Dumbledore's office since 3rd year." Daisy started for the door.

"Uhm—"

"Well—"

"It—it's private, Daisy." Eliza tried to not break into a sweat, while Jean chimed in, "Yeah, real private."

Daisy didn't look convinced, but backed off. "Oh—okay then, I guess, I'll just see you later…I guess."

"Yeah, later."

The awkward silence was crushing, and Eliza made quick work of patting Leaf on the head and directing him over to Jean, as well as grabbing to Potions book, fleeing the room with a cheery wave.

The Halls were filled with lingering students; most of them cramming for their upcoming O.W.L's—there were a few boys in the Courtyard staring into a crystal ball with unblinking gazes—and a few simply assuming they'll wing every exam on the spot.

The diverging path to the Dungeons always held lingering Slytherins, the likes of Draco Malfoy and Silas lounging against a particularly angry portrait of an old man. There was a horrendous red mark spotting the bridge of the young Malfoy's nose, and even a few other Slytherins's snickered on their way back and forth.

Eliza walked by them effortlessly—"My father will hear about his, and stop laughing you idiot."—strolling down into the depths of the Dungeons, ignoring the jeers from the green clothed students, knocking twice on the Potion Masters door.

He answered almost immediately, raising a brow at her blank face, "Come in."

She followed behind him and felt the door slam shut, the cold of the classroom chilling her bones. There was still a part of her that was infuriated that he'd used magic against her just last night, but wasn't in the mood for a fight.

"Here," she produced the Potions book and walked to his desk, dropping it just as he took his seat. "I don't need this anymore."

"Hm." He gingerly lifted the item at hand, opening it up to the first page before snapping it shut. "May I ask as to why you felt the need to return your book four days before your peers?"

She gulped, "Because there's something wrong with that one. I should've given it back the moment I opened it."

"And yet, you didn't." Snape rubbed his pale hand along the worn out spin, "Did it ever occur to you that perhaps, this book coming into your possession was… intentional? _Hm_?"

The color drained from her face, "You—You meant to give it to me… but why?" she snatched it back from his hands, flipping through the pages and showing him, "Someone's ruined it already, and I—I did something horrible—"

"Miss Jones." He cut her off, "It's funny that you would call this book ruined, when I would call it… _fixed_."

The cogs were turning as she left the book flip shut, shaking her head in confusion, "No, no, that doesn't make sense." She leaned forward in shock, "Professor Snape… is this _your_ book?"

His silence was a resounding answer that nearly had her stumbling back in shock, clutching one of the desks with a tight grip. Snape held her gaze and stood, stealthily stalking around the rectangular desk and placing his death like form in her way.

She gulped, the confirmation spilling from her dry lips.

" _You're_ the Half-Blood Prince."

To which he nodded, "Yes, I am."

"Professor Snape," she whispered between them, "Why did you give this to me. I know you did it on purpose and I deserve to know why."

He made no move to answer.

Tension raged between them, and she stood up straight, "It doesn't matter anyway. I still don't want it. I think it would be better in your hands, Sir."

A moment passed before he backed away, giving her a bit of breathing room and a moment to think, rubbing her sweaty palms on her blouse. There were no more words exchanged as she made her way to the door.

"I hope you are aware that this conversation must never leave this room, Miss Jones." He uttered into the air, not even flinching as she let the door slam shut.

Her footsteps were quiet as she rounded back out of the Dungeons, shrugging off an almost 'concerned' look from Silas, trying to make sense of the conversation she'd just had.

There were two things she was sure of; Snape had the capabilities of creating spells, but who could even guess when he'd made it, possibly during his schooling years at Hogwarts, and that he'd meant to give her that book—had meant for her too see his notes and his modifications—for a reason she couldn't quiet understand.

All of her interactions with Snape this year had been, to put it plainly, absolutely _bonkers._

The hallway that led to the Defense Against the Dark Arts classroom was empty; no more lingering students and all of the Courtyards loungers had fled. The illusion of privacy gave her the strength to push open his door, not giving the courtesy of knocking. The room was empty, the chairs having been stacked away and the door to his office remained open, her legs striding across and up the classroom stairs, standing clear in the doorway.

She'd been expecting him to possibly look tired, but this was much worse; the hair that was normally styled back to keep from his eyes was flat and lifeless, the scars of his cheeks red and angry, dark bags resting under his eyes as shallow breaths echoed in his chest.

The dark green cape he'd worn the first day they'd met rested on his back, and her heart broke for him, not even taking a moment to think as she leapt onto him, clutching him close.

It took only a moment for his arms to slowly pull her closer, his nose resting on the crown of her head and inhaling deeply, wanting to memorize her scent. She allowed her ear to rest against his chest, listening to the calming heartbeat, wishing they could stay this way forever.

But alas—

Remus pulled back first, using his finger to lift her chin, somberly whispering, "I'm sorry."

"You have nothing to be sorry for, Remus," she lets her hand rest on his chest, "Nothing bad happened last night. No one was hurt, and Sirius is free." He tried to butt in but she cut him off, "No, don't even try and make you being a werewolf the problem here."

Remus chuckled, scars crinkling, "Only you would argue with a werewolf the night after the full moon." His hands skimmed a strand of her hair, twirling it around his finger, "How did I ever get so lucky?"

"I ask myself the same thing." The pair stared at one another, leaning in and allowing fireworks to explode behind their eyes, lips meeting in a perfect kiss. His hands gripped her close, nails digging into the cloth coating her lower back, covered breasts pressing harshly against his chest as a low growl rumbled in his throat.

It was a fight for dominance; his tongue wanting domain over every part of her. The taste of her was enough to have him desperate, knowing that there much more devious things he'd love to move onto. But instead his lips pulled away, a string of saliva connecting them.

"Is something wrong?" he shook his head, nosing at her cheek, "I'd rather not take you against this desk, as I can guarantee it would hurt your back."

A nearly unseen blush marred her skin, avoiding his lust filled eyes, "I can agree that my first time should be somewhere more romantic than an empty office."

The hands still on her back tightened even more, a wicked smirk blooming on his face. "I'll make sure of it."

She chuckled, pecking one of the scars on his cheek and returning her head to rest of his chest, loving the feel of being in his arms. They were silent for the moment, allowing the light to wash over their joined bodies. "Will you always be with me, Remus?"

For now, his nod was enough of an answer.

* * *

 _2 months later_

* * *

London was gloomy today; the clouds hung in the sky as if they'd already requested and been accepted for a permanent residence, and the sun was powerless in handing over an eviction notice in their stay. Their presence brought a gloomy feel that made Eliza rest her cheek on her palm, elbow keeping her head at height with the window.

It was raining as well, gutters covered in loads of water and a harsh wind tearing through the streets that had people running for cover. Lone umbrellas stumbled down the sidewalk, having been caught in the breeze. Cars mostly stayed off the streets on days like this, so only the occasional bus ran by.

"Elizabeth? Darling?" Mara yelled up the stairs, "Do you want to come with me to the Market? We're low on everything." Eliza stuck her tongue out before yelling back, "Bring me back some cheese crisps, please!"

She was vaguely aware of Mara sputtering on about ungrateful teenagers and ungodly wind, but the slamming door meant she had left to venture out into the cold. Eliza's eyes drifted to the bookshelf; maybe a book would be a good way to occupy her time, or maybe Mara had some knitting downstairs that would be interesting—

A yelp left her lips and she fell from her chair, a force crashing against the window that startled her beyond belief. She was quick to sit up and sneakily peer outside, hoping no one had been throwing rocks at her window. But alas, a burly brown owl fluttered its wings with wet letter in its mouth.

It was a task trying to take her assumed letter— a nasty biter that one— but she got it eventually and shut the window once more.

It wasn't handwriting she knew, but the address was all too familiar. It was the Weasley Burrow, and there was a small sense if urgency as her hands tore open the letter, assuming it was Molly or Arthur asking her to visit.

 _Elizabeth,_

 _It seems we have an extra ticket to the 422_ _nd_ _Quidditch World Cup…_

 _End of Howl_

 _Next_

 _Moonrise_

* * *

 _And that's it!_

 _Next we move into the Goblet of Fire! I only have two pre-written chapters, that require moderate editing, so they should be up soon!_


	12. Quidditch World Cup: Part 1

_Hey everyone!_

 _Thank you for every comment, follow and favorite. Let's begin Moonrise!_

* * *

"So, tell me one last time, what're you doing to my fireplace?" Mara asked as a bite of pancake neared her mouth, "I'd like to be aware if I'll be receiving any unwelcome wizards covered in soot."

Eliza snickered and glugged down a sip of acrid juice, "The charm will reverse as soon as I use it, meaning no, no one is going to be shooting into the living room covered in soot."

"Well, that's a relief." Mara smiled, "I was worried for a second I'd have to constantly have the kettle running for visitors."

The Aunt and niece duo continued to eat their breakfast, Eliza's favorite meal of pancakes, four strips of bacon and as much orange juice as she could stomach. It was sort of a farewell breakfast, seeing as in just a little while, she'd bee floo'ing to the Weasley's for the next month.

Mara finished off her plate and took a long sip of her preferred tea, "I always miss you when you're off at that school, and now I don't even get you for the summer." Eliza tried to interject but Mara shook her head, "I know, I know, it's a once in a lifetime event that you're still shocked you're even going to. I just…"

Eliza sighed but smiled at her Aunt, "I really do wish I could bring you and show you all the things I love about magic. But if anyone knew that _you_ knew, "Eliza sordidly shrugged, "They'd erase your memory of me."

"I know, love, and I'm grateful of the risk your taking in even telling me anything at all." Mara smiled, nails tapping on the side of her mug, "My sister would've loved to see the witch you've become."

It was an anomaly to hear Mara speak about her sister—Eliza's mother—but the few times that she did, Eliza always asked, "What was she like, my mother?"

And Mara always gave the same answer, "She was kind but fearsome, much like you. Her and Eton were two of the best people I knew."

Sadness drenched the Aunt's words and it always made Eliza regret asking, so instead, she changed the subject, "Have you made any plans now that you have the place to yourself?"

Mara wiped away her watery eyes, "Not much, regular knitting and flower watching. But uhm…" she fidgeted nervously and laid both hands on the table, "I wanted to talk to you about something before you left."

Eliza chuckled nervously, "Alright, what is it?"

"Well, I was cleaning a few days ago when you were out and I went into your room to put away some of your laundry and I know that your sweaters go under you bed, so, of course, I took out the cloths container and, I really wasn't trying to snoop."

Eliza felt her stomach plummet into the ground, sinking all the way to the opposite side of the globe.

"And I know, your birthday is soon and you'll be 17 and you're practically and adult and all that, but darling—"

"Mara, I can explain—."

"Who's Remus?"

The stack of letters that she had so cleverly hidden under her bed had been found by her Aunt, the letters from Remus that they'd been sending back and forth by Owl for the past month. They told stories of his days at Hogwarts, his likes and dislikes—and the ones written before and after the full moon were sappier than anything—but they were words she read over and over every night, wishing he were there in her bed, holding her close.

Mara finding out was never in that equation.

"Uhm… Well…" she tried to think of the best lie known to wizard kind, "Remus…Remus is…"

Mara urged her on, "Yes? Who is he?"

 _Merlin, forgive her._

"Remus is a boy at my school."

"Oh." Mara looked slightly surprised, "That's it?"

"Yep." She popped the 'p', innocently smiling at her Aunt, quickly standing and making a stack of their dishes, "I'd love to continue this conversation but I really need to get to the Weasley's, you know, all about punctuation I am."

Mara slyly smiled and watched Eliza eagerly pack the dishwasher and shut it closed, "Ah, I get it, I was in love once too. But remember, don't let him—"

"I can't hear you! I'm already gone!" Eliza fled the kitchen to stand in the living room before the fireplace, grabbing her luggage in one hand and a handful of floo powder in the other. The Aunt had her hip leaned against the doorway, smirking while waving "Don't let touch your lady bits."

"Weasley Burrow!"

Mara watched her niece disappear in a flash of green flames, shaking her head with a snicker.

* * *

 _There was a noise across the way; the old house a few meters out that was sure to be abandoned, as no one had lived there for ages. The lights were lit on the second floor, and the vague sound of yelling was loud enough to have the old man looking away from his kettle, glaring out the window._

" _Bloody kids."_

 _This wasn't the first time the old man had been forced to throw hooligans out from the second story house that caused more trouble than good. It was a simple task of grabbing his lantern, lighting it with a match and leaving his home— damn, he shivered and thought of the coat he by the door._

 _The door was always unlocked; there was no point in locking a house that only he even ventured into. The whispers came from upstairs, and he lifted the lantern up above his head, eyes pinched in question. His steps are quiet as he makes his way up, shoving that lantern glow into every corner and crease. His old ears have trouble discerning the sex of the voices—they are hushed in a way that made him feel as though he was intruding on a private meeting._

 _He stops at the top of the stairs and watches the door at the end, slightly open and bleeding a green ominous light. The voices were becoming more clear, and he listened with a furrowed brow, "Oh no, no, my Lord. I only… if perhaps… we didn't need the boy…"_

 _The man nearly trips back when another voice growls a guttural "No!"_

 _It feels wrong, but he steps closer, eyes seeing a small round figure kneeling next to a chair, no, more like a throne. The sickly voice growls, "The boy is everything, it cannot be done without him and it will be done exactly as I say."_

 _The round figure shuddered but nodded, backing away as a much taller and visibly younger man stepped forward and knelt, "I will not disappoint you, my Lord." There was something chaotic and frightening about that young man, his voice holding a terrifying madness that nearly had the old man turning back._

 _The rounded figure tried to back away as the younger man spoke with a desperate tone, "And the girl, my Lord? May I…?" it was disturbing to hear the hunger and desperation in his voice._

 _The old man nearly yelped as he felt something slither by his feet; his breaths turned shallow, as he was saw the snake enter the room, interrupting the three men. The crazed young man turned and looked right at him, standing up at to a full height._

" _Nagini tells me the old caretaker is standing right outside the door." The old man was too petrified to run._

" _Step aside, so I may give our guest a proper greeting." The young man stepped aside and withered eyes watched a leathered hand grip a pointed stick, turning to his once hidden position._

" _Avada Kedavra—!"_

"—Are you even listening to me?" Hermione's shrill voice brought Eliza back to reality, the dream from last night blinking away. "Is everything alright?"

"Yeah, I'm sorry." She wearily smiled at the fourth year, "Just had a bad dream last night."

The dynamic duo of George and Fred Weasley bounded down the winding stairs, placing themselves back against the two girls chairs, devilish smiles on their mugs, "Well, look here, Fred, the prettiest girls awaiting our arrival. Isn't that sweet?"

Fred scoffed, "Our arrival?" Putting his hands in Eliza shoulders and leaning in, "I believe I called dibs on this one last year."

"I wouldn't touch you with a ten foot pole, Weasley." Eliza rolled her eyes, smiling as Molly Weasley knocked the twins on the heads, "You two leave them alone. Go get your brother and sister for breakfast."

They dejectedly shuffled off as Molly miraculously had breakfast on the table; a mountain of toast, enough sausage for two families, and lots and lots of eggs, as well as a spot of tea.

Arthur Weasley grinned at the 7th year, "Are you excited, Elizabeth? I've never been to one either but I'm dying to see how the Irish have their fun. I heard that the stands are so high, it feels like the game is right at your ears."

"Oh, Arthur, leave her alone, let her talk to someone her age." Molly scolded her husband, shooing him off to check that his bags were in order.

"I've never been either." Hermione added, "It's Quidditch and team spirit all in one massive arena. What could be bad about that?"

"I guess." Eliza agreed, finishing her plate and standing, prepared to get her bags to put by the door, but Hermione tugged on her arm and led the girl to the corner of the empty living room.

"Your dream, what was it about?" The concerned look on the 4th years face was concerning to Eliza, "Nothing… why do you care?"

She huffed, "Just tell me, I think it might have something to do with Harry."

"Harry?" Eliza questioned, "Hermione, they're not that serious. They're a man—he's in this house and he goes to this other one—look, this has nothing to do with Harry."

"And he dies… right?" Hermione slowly added, "The old man goes to the house and is killed, isn't it?"

Hermione nearly squawks as she's pressed against the nearest wall, an angry 7th year growling in her face, "How do you know that?" They stared off until Ron's obnoxiously loud voice started to come down the stairs, Eliza releasing the younger girl and pushing her way up the stairs, ignoring Harry's friendly greeting. She closed the door to Charlie's room—the Dragon Tamer was off for a little while so she got his room—and slumped against the closed door with shut eyes.

The reoccurring nightmares had haunted her trip, swimming in the back of her mind and prodding her subconscious. What did it mean? Why was it happening to her?

 _And the girl, my Lord? May I…?_

A chocked sob left her throat and fear welled in her heart; why did _she_ know that voice?

* * *

They bid Molly farewell and walked into the woods, backpacks on and eager smiles ready for a solid Quidditch Game. Hermione, Harry and Ron were stuck together like burrs, while Fred and George lingered side by side with a disgruntled Ginny, which left Eliza with Arthur, his mouth running about the greatness of learning Muggle studies, when they started upon a clear field with an irregularly large tree.

"Hmmm, Amos said he'd meet us here." Arthur pondered aloud, turning in a circle to look around. "I'm sorry but who's Amos?"

A rustle from above caused her to look up with squinted eyes.

A loud snap erupted to her right, and she jumped as a plump man with little glasses smiled brightly, cane in hand, "Amos Diggory, at your service." He looked to about middle aged, wrinkle lines creasing his eyes and a small layer of fat prominent on his chin. The outfit he'd decided to wear was something out of a Sherlock Holmes novel, but she smiled nonetheless, and held out a shaking hand, "And Elizabeth Jones, at yours."

"Ah, " he smiled with ever raising brows, "I've heard a lot about you from my son. He's a Hufflepuff, like you."

She smiled and tried to hide her confusion, "Oh really? What's his name?"

Her knees nearly gave out as a body fell from the tree above, the form landing right at her side. He looked about her age; taller by more than a few inches, ridiculously pale skin that was only highlighted by his brown mop, a row of slightly crooked teeth in a perfectly white smile, and grey wondrous eyes.

He held out one large pale hand, "Cedric, Cedric Diggory."

He barely looked familiar; maybe he sat at the opposite end of the table, or never spoke up in classes. Her non-familiarity with his name must have shown on her face since he shyly smiled and released her hand, "It's alright, I don't think I've ever really made an impression at Hogwarts."

Amos let out a boisterous laugh, "Ah! My son; the modest one. He's the seeker for the Hufflepuff Quidditch Team and could've been Head Boy."

Cedric made a disgruntled face and waved off his dad's praise, "He's kidding, really." Amos shot his son a raised brow before joining Arthur on the trek, leaving Cedric with Elizabeth. Neither one really knew what to do with each other, so they started walking, side by side.

He was the one to break the silence, "Have you been to this type of thing before?" She shook her head, "Nope, it's my first one ever. I'm only here because the Weasley's had an extra ticket and Molly treats me like she gave birth to me. And just between us, I'm not the best at Quidditch."

He laughed along with her; "I remember the game from last year, where you fell off your broom. I think that's testament enough that Quidditch is not your forte."

"Correction, I was _knocked_ off."

They laughed like old friends, "Still, I never imagined I'd see you here." One of his hands lightly fell to the small of her back, but she paid it no mind. "You know, I never really found the courage to talk to you during the school year. When you're with your friends you can be a little… intimidating."

"Us?" she laid a surprised hand on her chest. "We're the _least_ bit intimidating. Maybe…" she offered, "You're just scared."

His offended face made her chuckle, "Or maybe you should tone down your evil witch glare."

"I do not—!"

"Everyone!" Arthur yelled to the small groups, "Come on, we can't be late!"

Harry, Hermione, Ron, Ginny, Fred and George, all ran ahead of Cedric and Eliza, coming into a circle and falling to their knees. "What's going on?"

Cedric smirked, "It's a Portkey, Eliza. Surprised you don't know that." His hand on her back pushed her forward, seeing a mangy old boot that had clearly seen better days, and he ignored the mocking face she made.

"Grab on tight, everyone. One, two—"

Eliza had fallen and was gripping the top of the boot with her right hand, and saw that Harry wasn't.

She yelled to him, "Harry, hold on!"

He grabbed it in the nick of time, and they were off.


End file.
